Meeting Mr Goode
by katie4cheer
Summary: One day, the CIA pairs Zach and Cammie up to complete a life-or-death mission. They've never met before; Blackthorne had never merged with Gallagher. Can Cammie trust Zach, who is constantly smirking and always seems to know where she is?
1. Not Such a Chameleon

**(Author's Note: REMEMBER - Cammie and Zach have not met before. Blackthorne students were never sent to Gallagher. Cammie doesn't know Blackthorne even exists.)**

* * *

Cameron Ann Morgan, 23 years old, walked down the hallway of an accounting building in New York City. She had a black leather briefcase in one hand, and a wrinkled business card in the other. Pinching the business card between two fingers, she reaches out and twists the doorknob of her office door in the other. The heavy door slams shut behind her and she walks across the cramped office in the dark; she has had this job for so long that she knew her office by heart.

Cammie sets her briefcase in one of the chairs that sat in front of her gray metal desk. The chair was usually reserved for clients who came in to see her, but it was about an hour after closing time. She reaches over the plush swivel-chair behind her desk and snaps on the desk lamp. Cammie pulls out a drawer of her desk that was full of highlighters, pencils, pens, tape, and other normal office supplies. But she wasn't interested in any of that.

Her hand reaches under the drawer and wraps around a cold metallic key that she had taped to the bottom of the drawer. She rips it free and walks over to a filing cabinet in the corner, unlocking the drawer and opening it. She removes several files of background checks of important clients and tucks them into her briefcase to work on during the weekend. She locks the drawer again and returns the key to its amateur hiding place.

Cammie's hand hovers over the handle of her briefcase as a wide-mouthed yawn overtakes her. Her other hand floats over her mouth, covering it up. Sometimes this job bored her so much, she wished the CIA had more use for her. But the fact was… everything had been so slow lately. She wasn't technically fired, but her position was on hold until they needed her for a mission.

_"You basically have a group of spies who are chosen for a mission  
they feel for the fact of how competent they are and their expertise and they're the right one for the job.  
But ultimately they find out they've been actually chosen for their incompetence."  
-_** Matt LeBlanc**

And now, Cammie was stuck being an accountant. A boring job for a boring person… err, chameleon. It was the perfect alibi for a spy. Nobody would suspect anything… if anybody even had a reason to suspect anything. Like it was said before, she hadn't been on a mission in a while. It had been at least a year.

Suddenly, the phone rang. It was harsh and loud and rang out in the dark, empty office. Any normal person would have flinched at the abruptness of it. But Cammie Ann Morgan wasn't normal. No, she was far from it. She snatches up the phone and holds the receiver to her ear. Her voice immediately shifts to sound like the perky, lively accountant she was supposed to be. "Hello, this is Cameron Morgan at Gaucherie Accounting. How may I help you?"

"Hey, Gallagher Girl, it's great to hear your voice again," says a man's voice from the other end. Cammie's body froze. Whoever this person was, he knew she came from the Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women. How he knew that, she didn't know. But did it matter? For all she knew, he only thought it was the preppy, gifted boarding school everybody else thought it was. Not the spy school that it actually is.

"I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong number," Cammie replies good-naturedly, even though her mind was reeling. She firmly hangs up on whoever was on the phone and snaps off her desk lamp. She turns to the large bay window that took up the whole wall behind her desk. It provided a perfect view of a bustling New York City street. The sidewalks were packed with people walking home from work, and a long stream of sunshine-yellow taxi cabs were backed up in rush-hour traffic. It was sunset, and the city was bathed in orange light. She pulls on the strings of the blinds, and the blinds slide across the window, making her office even darker than it was before.

Cammie picks up her briefcase and walks into the empty hallway. Her fellow co-workers had all left for home about an hour ago, but she had stayed behind to finish up a few papers in the conference room. She locks her office door and slips the key into the pocket of her dark-wash skinny jeans. As she walks down the fluorescent-lit hallway, her black stiletto heels clicked loudly on the linoleum.

Cammie pressed her finger against the down button for the elevator. She sees her reflection in the shiny metal elevator doors and tucks a stray strand of mousy brown hair behind her ear. The rest of her hair was up in a messy bun. She wore a crisp white blouse with a few buttons undone in the front and the sleeves rolled up to her forearms. She had on plain pearl-drop earrings. Her boss, Mr. Thomas, didn't care if his employees wore whatever they wanted to work. He thought that their casual, non-uniform style would "connect with their clients."

Finally, a loud humming wells up from within the elevator shaft, which meant the elevator was finally coming. It took a while to rise up from the lobby all the way to the fifteenth floor, where Cammie's office was. The doors slowly opened, and she pressed the button for the lobby. The doors slowly closed, and the elevator began the decent towards the lobby.

Once the elevator got to the library, Cammie waved politely to the secretary at the front desk and walked through the exit turnstiles. Then she pushed the revolving door and stepped out into the crowd of people on the sidewalk. When she had first moved from calm Roseville, Pennsylvania, to busy New York City, Cammie had rejoiced the vast amount of people. It meant her job as a chameleon had just gotten easier to blend in with the crowd. The only problem was that, since nobody noticed her, she was always being shoved and bumped into when she walked down the sidewalk. But now that was over. Cammie had grown to enjoy the aggressiveness of a New Yorker. She walked with purpose and went with the flow.

As the mob of people stood still and waited for the street light to change so they could commence walking again, Cammie's mind went to the man on the phone in her office. How had he known she was from Gallagher? She hadn't told anybody she was moving to New York besides her mother, Mr. Solomon, and her friends: Bex, Liz, and Macey.

Cammie didn't even know that many guys. Of course, there was Josh, but she had pretty much forgotten all about him after he broke up with her. The man didn't sound like Josh, though, and the voice on the phone definitely didn't sound like Mr. Solomon. The red hand turned into a green stick figure, signaling that they could begin walking again. The crowd of strangers hustles across the street.

Before she knew it, she was in front of her apartment building. Cammie walks up the front steps and through the revolving doors into the spacious lobby. There was a massive chandelier dangling above her head from a thin cord, and the tile floors were a goldish-yellow color. She politely smiles at the lady behind the front counter and speed-walks toward the elevator, whose doors were just beginning to close. Her hand smacks the door, and the doors re-open for her. Cammie steps inside and crams in between an elderly lady and a buff, middle-aged man who looked like he was trying to re-live his twenties in a muscle tee. She presses the button for the eighth floor, and the elevator goes up in silence.

Luckily, her floor was the first stop, and she walks into the red-and-gold decorated hallway. Cammie digs her key from her briefcase and opens her apartment door. As she walks into her plain apartment, she hears the phone ringing from the living room. She half-jogs across the kitchen, dumping her briefcase on the counter, and into the living room. "Hello?" Cammie asks on her cordless telephone, after she snatched it up from the tan leather couch. She holds the phone to her ear with her shoulder while she walks back to the kitchen and begins making herself some mint tea, as she does every night after work.

"Cammie, Cammie, Cammie. Don't you know it's rude to hang up on somebody?" a man asks. "I would have thought Madame Dabney had taught you better in Culture & Assimilation at Gallagher Academy."

Cammie practically drops the glass of hot water she was taking out of the microwave. It was the same man from her office's telephone. She nervously puts the glass on the counter and shakily sits down in a barstool. Not much could jar her like this. She was a spy, after all. And here she was, talking to a guy who had said not more than four sentences to her, and she felt as if someone had yanked a rug out from under her feet.

There was no way this was some sort of coincidence now. He, whoever he was, knew she went to Gallagher Academy. He knew her name was Cammie, which was something only her friends called her. In New York, she went by Cameron. He knew her work number and her home number. And, more importantly, he knew about Culture & Assimilation, taught by Madame Dabney. C&A isn't a normal class; it's a spy class. Which could only mean one thing.

He knew she was a spy. He knew Gallagher was a spy school.

"Who are you?" Cammie croaks out. Her elbows were on the counter, and one hand was on her forehead. Whoever this person was, she had the right to know. She deserved the right to know.

"Zach. But that's all you need to know… for know," he says.

"What do you mean all I need to know?!" Cammie demands, "You know my phone number, my name…everything! Why can't I at least know your last name?"

"It doesn't take a genius to use the phone book," he replies cockily. His tone of voice was different somehow. It sounded almost as if he was… smirking. Or something.

"I can report you to the CIA. I happen to be a CIA agent," Cammie snaps, turning her voice to business-mode. There was no way he'd deny a threat of the CIA. Whoever he was. Oh, right. Zach.

"What if I work for the CIA, too?"

"That's doubtful."

Zach laughs. He had a nice laugh. "Like you hardly have a case against me, Gallagher Girl."

"You're stalking me."

"Not necessarily," Zach answers casually. There was a long silence after that. Cammie involuntarily sticks her finger in the water for her tea. It had grown cold.

"What do you want from me?" she asks finally.

"Meet me."

Cammie barks out a laugh. "Yeah, right. So you can stalk me from closer proximity, and eventually end up raping me in a dark alley?" she shoots back. She knew there was no way that could happen, though. She could take down this 'Zach' person… if that was actually his real name… one-handed and blindfolded. She had five years of P&E training to thank for that. Then again, it was better for your enemies to underestimate your strength than to overestimate it.

"I wouldn't do that. I work for the CIA, remember?" he reminds her. That tone was back… He was smirking. Cammie knew it. She just knew it.

"Yeah, of course you do."

"Meet me tomorrow. Central Park. The wooden bench by the Conservatory Pond. Six o'clock in the evening."

"Wait, what do you look like?" Cammie asks. "I mean, it's not like I will actually be there or anything… but I might."

"The only important thing is that I know what you look like," Zach retorts. Cammie lets out a loud sigh into the phone, and stands up. She walks over to the large bay window that was just like in her office. It took up one whole wall of her living room. She checks the time on her watch, 7: 32p.m. and holds the phone away from her mouth as she lets out a silent yawn. "Oh, and can you promise me one more thing?"

"I didn't promise to meet you, but what is it?"

"Get some sleep tonight. You look tired," he says. That was all the explanation he gave her, because a resounding 'click' echoed through the phone line and the dial tone began buzzing in her ear. Cammie's jaw was dropped open, and not because of the yawn.

He had seen her. Whether he saw her yawn in her office, or in her home, or both. Cammie puts one hand on the chilly glass of the bay window and looks out at the city below her. Zach was somewhere down there. Watching her. Suddenly, Cammie didn't feel like a chameleon anymore.

_"It is not safe to know certain things."  
_- **William Davenant**


	2. We Operate on Short Notice

It was the evening of the next day, and Cammie was getting dressed for her rendezvous at the wooden bench at the Conservatory Pond in Central Park. She had all the curtains in her bedroom drawn tightly over the windows; she wasn't taking any chances of having a Peeping Tom watch her change. Cammie pulls on some destroyed, dark-wash boot-cut jeans and steps into a pair of strappy red wedge sandals. Then she puts on a tight white tee with red designs all over the front. She buttons on a sleeveless black cardigan with a deep V-neck that went down to her bellybutton over the tee.

She checks her makeup in the mirror, satisfied. Although she definitely wasn't trying to impress Zach, or anything. She simply wanted to make a good impression, which is what all successful businesswomen did, especially in New York. On her way out the door, Cammie reaches for her purse, but then decides against it. Zach could be a criminal, for all she knew. So she just takes a few dollars and her cellphone, and sticks both in the back pocket of her jeans.

Outside of her apartment building, Cammie steps to the curb and puts one foot on the road. She raises one hand straight up in the air and puts two fingers of her other hand in her mouth, letting out a shrill whistle. "Taxi!" she shouts.

A bright yellow taxi cab immediately pulls over to the curb, and Cammie slides into the back seat. "Where to?" the taxi driver asks. He was bald, with a gray mustache stained yellow from cigarette smoke.

"Central Park," Cammie replies. She buckles her seat belt and looks out the window as the driver pulled the cab back into traffic. She watches the pedestrians walking along the curb and thinks, _Is that Zach? Is that Zach?_ The fact was, Cammie had no idea what Zach would look like. Short, or tall? Blue eyes, or brown eyes? Blonde, or brunette? Eventually, she gave up. _I'll find out sooner or later_, she decides.

The cab pulled up to Central Park, and the cab driver twisted around to face her since they were stuck in a red light. "Any specific place in Central Park?" he asks. Cammie unbuckles her seatbelt and shakes her head.

"How much?"

"Three-fifty," the man replies. Cammie reaches a hand into her back pocket and digs out a five dollar bill. She tosses the bill into the front seat and climbs out of the taxi before the driver can even begin getting change out. She slams the car door and walks around the taxi, which was still stuck at the red light.

Cammie glances at the silver watch on her wrist and silently mouthes the time. 5:57p.m. She casually walks down one of the shady sidewalks of Central Park in the direction of the Conservatory Pond. Eventually, she approaches a short wooden bench fit to seat two or three people. Cammie sits down and glances at her watch again 5:59p.m. One more minute.

She looks up and scours the crowd for somebody looking at her. But there was nobody. Just a few evening joggers, moms pushing strollers, and businessmen cutting through the park on their way home. Cammie sighs and glances at her watch once more, and she vowed to not look at it again. It would look much too conspicuous. 6:00p.m.

"Cameron Ann Morgan, I presume?" asks a deep voice from above her. Cammie looks up from her watch to see a smirking twenty-something year old with his hands in the pockets of his Volcom jeans. How he snuck up on her without her hearing, she didn't know.

Cammie stands up to find that the man was a full head taller than her; her eyes barely reached his chin, and that was with the aid of three-inch wedge sandals. He had extremely broad shoulders, and his chest was tight against a dark green T-shirt with a slight V-neck, revealing a sliver of tanned chest. His hands were large and one wrist held a glittering gold Rolex watch. His jaw was chiseled and smooth, like he had recently shaved. He had shaggy dark brown hair that kissed the tops of his ears and brushed against his forehead. But the most striking feature about him was his stunning green eyes, which shone in the sunlight.

She brushes a stray lock of her hair behind her diamond-studded ear. "And you are Zach, I presume?" she retorts, although it didn't sound right because she didn't know his whole name. She crosses her arms, a tad bit annoyed he had one-upped her.

"You guess right. Listen, I have something to ask you."

"And what would that be?"

Zach pulls one hand from his pocket and rubs the back of his head. "Now, you're probably not going to believe me on this, but…," he begins. Cammie raises one eyebrow in interest. "I know everything about you."

"Yeah, I kinda figured that once you called me on both of my phones, told me the schools I went to, and basically threatened me to meet you here," she replies.

"I didn't threaten you."

"You _would _have if I didn't show up today. Who knows what a fake CIA operative stalking me is capable of?"

"Okay, first of all, I'm not a fake CIA agent. I'm legit," Zach insists. He draws a brown leather wallet from his pocket and flips it open, revealing a blue and gray ID card in a clear compartment. Sure enough, it was real. He flips his wallet closed and replaces it in his pocket. "And second, I'm not stalking you. I got put in charge of a life-or-death CIA mission."

"Well good for you," Cammie says bitterly. _Why was he assigned a mission instead of me? _"But why do you even care about me if the mission was assigned to you?"

"That's the thing. They told me I needed to recruit an agent to work with on the mission, and four other agents to aid us if we would happen to need it. They gave me fifty files of suitable CIA agents for the mission to choose from," he explains.

"And let me guess… you chose me?" Cammie asks, although it was quite obvious. She was partially thrilled on the inside; she _finally _had another mission from the CIA. And a life-or-death mission, at that. Which meant she had to be pretty darn skilled for them to choose her. Or, technically, for _Zach _to choose her out of fifty other qualified agents.

"I'm asking you about it, aren't I?" he responds.

Out of the corner of her eye, Cammie sees a determined jogger-woman pushing her stroller down the sidewalk. She takes a step closer to Zach in order to make room for the jogger. Once she had passed, Cammie looks up at Zach and grabs his sleeve while leaning closer to whisper, "Maybe we should talk about this somewhere more… private. We never know who could be listening."

__

"You're there, listening to every word, but part of you is observing.  
Everything is useful.  
You see every scrap, even the longest and most boring."

**- Graham Greene**

"Good call, Gallagher girl," he says with a nod. Cammie gives him a tight smile and takes a step away from him. The pungent smell of his spearmint gum was quite intoxicating.

"We could go to my apartment," she offers. "It's just a few blocks away."

"So is mine. We should probably go to my apartment, though, since I have the files there, too. I could lend them to you to look over them, but you'd have to be extremely careful," he warns.

"Careful is my middle name."

"Strange, I thought it was Ann."

"I was speaking hypothetically."

"I know," he replies, a bleach-white smirk streaking across his face. "C'mon, my apartment is this way." He brushes past Cammie, leaving the strong smell of spicy cologne in his wake. She rolls her eyes and begins following him, although she made sure to take a big whiff of the cologne.

"So, where do you live?" she asks once she had caught up to his brisk pace in her teeteringly-high wedge sandals. They fall into step, and Cammie looks at him out of the corner of her eye.

"You'll find out soon enough. Now, I understand you're friends with two girls named Rebecca Baxter and Elizabeth Sutton?" he asks, looking straight ahead.

"Yeah… they're my best friends. Bex and Liz, by the way. Nobody calls them by their first names," Cammie explains, but then stops herself when she realizes she had almost started babbling, like she does when she gets nervous. Which is _not _a good habit, especially for a spy. "Why are you asking?"

"Like I said, if you follow through and agree to do the mission with me, I'll need four other CIA agents to help us in case we need it. And, according to your file, you work well with Bex and Liz."

"What about Macey? Did my file say anything about her?"

"Yes, but it also said she was on a mission of her own in Paris."

"Which is true," Cammie agrees with a nod. They cross the street during a red light and turn a corner. It was sunset once again, and the orange sunlight reflected off the skyscraper windows all around them. "So what about the other two agents?"

"Let's just say I know some people."

"What are there names? I may be joining the mission; I have a right to know."

"Okay, okay. Sheesh, Gallagher girl, you sure are nosy. They're my best friends, too, and their names are Grant Newman and Jonas Hariford," Zach informs her. **(A/N: The books never mention Jonas' last name, do they? I had to make one up to fit.)**

Cammie nods and Zach leads her into the elegant lobby of an apartment building. They ride up the elevator to the thirteenth floor and to the very last door in the hall. Zach quickly unlocks the door and holds it open for Cammie, who steps into a dark room. He shuts the door behind them and flicks on the light.

His apartment was much like her own. They were standing in a modernized kitchen, and beyond that, a comfy-looking living room. Down the hall would probably be a bathroom, closet, and a bedroom. Zach opens the refrigerator and removed a thick manila folder. Cammie takes a seat on a barstool at the kitchen counter as Zach removes a smaller red folder from the manila folder, and puts the red folder back in the refrigerator. "What was the red folder for?" Cammie asks as he takes a seat next to her on another bar stool.

"It was your own file. But I didn't think you would be interested in that."

"And why is it the fridge?" she asks skeptically.

"A vial of your blood sample that comes with it needs to be kept refrigerated at all times," Zach recites, opening up the manila folder and removing multiple sheets of paper with statistics, graphs, maps, and fine print all over it.

"How'd you get a sample of _my _blood?!"

Zach shrugs and smirks at her, almost as if he was hinting that he knew something she didn't. Which… he probably did. "Okay. First, here's the mission summary. It tells the basics about what we need to do. We probably shouldn't discuss it… just read it when you get home, alright?" he instructs.

"Sure."

He gives her a few more packets, each with words that looked as if they were typed in the smallest font possible. And lastly, he gave her a sheet that explained their alibis, both his and hers, so they would each know their partner's cover. "So… the time of truth," Zach half-jokes, folding his hands on the counter. "Are you sure you want to do this? It's life-or-death… but you'll understand that part once you read these files later tonight."

Cammie pauses, shuffling the papers in her hands and scanning over them. She picked out works such as 'escape,' 'blackmail,' and 'torture.' Despite all that, it sounded right up her alley. "Definitely," she says, "I'd love to."

"Great. I had a feeling you would say yes."

"I bet it was more of a hunch than a feeling," Cammie replies with a small smile. Zach grins back at her, and this time it wasn't a smirk. He takes an identical manila folder from a drawer in the counter and slides Cammie's papers into it, securing the metal brads.

They both stand up and walk to the door. Zach opens it and announces, "I'll walk you home." Cammie steps into the hallway and turns around. She immediately puts her hand up to Zach's chest, stopping him in his tracks. Cammie almost yanked her hand back at the feel of his obvious pecs, but she resisted.

"No. I'm good. I can walk home by myself. Thanks for the offer, though," she says, letting her hand drop back to her side.

"Sure. But meet back here with the required luggage specified in those papers, and don't forget the file. We leave at noon," Zach adds.

"What? Why?"

"For the mission. The CIA practically entirely operates on short notice," he explains. He winks at her with one glinting green eye and silently shuts the door. Cammie blinks in surprise and glances at the file in her hands. Then she turns and looks up and down the empty hallway. With one more glance at the thick file in her hands, she sighs and walks briskly home to begin reading and packing.

__

"I am a woman who enjoys herself very much.  
Sometimes I lose,  
Sometimes I win."

**- Mata Hari**

**

* * *

**

(Author's Note: Okay, I made sure Zach sounded really hot in his description. Lol. But anyway, REMEMBER - Blackthorne never came to Gallagher before this, so Cammie and Zach have never met before. Just making sure I covered that again, since I've gotten a lot of reviews asking about it. Review! Tell me what you like, and what you hated. I'd love to be able to make my story better.)


	3. She Needs to Know

There were forty-five minutes left until Cammie needed to meet Zach at his apartment, and her luggage was all piled up at the door. She was so tired; she had stayed up until 11:21p.m. last night assessing the whole mission file Zach gave her, and then it took Cammie another two hours to sort through all her things and just pack the necessities. Turns out, she had four bulging traveling suitcases full of 'necessities.'

Cammie calls the front desk and asks if she could borrow a luggage cart, which was mainly used for new people moving into the apartment building, or, for that matter, people moving _out_. An employee knocks on the door a few minutes later with a red-and-gold luggage cart. "Thanks," she replies, "I can handle it from here."

She wheels the cart into her apartment and loads all four of her heavy suitcases onto the velvet platform. Then she takes the mission file from her counter and sticks it into the travel-on bag for the airplane, which was actually just an oversized navy hobo tote bag. On her way out the door, she grabs her cellphone and checks her outfit again in the mirror.

Today, Cammie wore a gray-and-white striped long-sleeve V-neck shirt with a navy tank top underneath it. She also had on a destroyed miniskirt from Hollister and tall grey Ugg boots with it. Her large silver hoop earrings matched the dozens of silver necklaces of varying lengths that dangled from her neck. She pulls the luggage cart into the hallway and locked the door behind her.

After she rode down the elevator and quickly hailed a cab at the street, she shoved her suitcases in the back seat and handed the luggage cart to the apartment employee who had followed her outside to help. Cammie slides into the backseat and gives the taxi driver the name of Zach's apartment building. She relaxes against the germy leather seat and glances longingly at her carry-on bag with the file in it. From being so tired last night after staying up so late to read over the file and having to pack simultaneously whenever she thought of something she would need, Cammie could hardly remember any of it.

The only thing she remembered about it was the mission itself: the Operatives, which would be her and Zach, had to retrieve a disk with the information of a new type of nuclear weapon. The disk had been stolen from the Pentagon almost a whole week ago, but the government didn't go public about so as to not bring everybody to a state of panic. If the disk got into the wrong hands, it could very much lead to World War III, and could possibly turn several countries into desert wastelands from all the destruction. The important part that Cammie had completely forgotten about was her cover. But she was sure she'd have enough time to go over that once they get on the plane, or the hotel, or somewhere private.

_"I am a spy in the house of me.  
I report back from the front lines of the battle that is me.  
I am somewhat nonplussed by the event that is my life."  
_**- Carrie Fisher**

By the time the taxi pulled up to Zach's apartment building, Cammie's phone started belting out Shut It Down by Pitbull featuring Akon. She glanced sheepishly at the taxi driver and as she digs in her carry-on bag for her cellphone. The driver simply taps the meter, signaling it was still running. Cammie nods at him and looks at the screen. It was an unknown number, but she presses the Talk button anyway, answering, "Hello?"

"Gallagher girl, stay in the taxi. I'm on my way down right now," Zach says immediately after she picked up.

"Uh, okay."

Zach hangs up on her and Cammie tosses her cellphone into her bag again. She was getting used to his bizarre phone conversations. Or, almost. In barely 35 seconds later, Zach walked out of the apartment building with two smaller suitcases in tow. A messenger bag carry-on was strapped across his torso, pulling his shirt tight against his body. Cammie has to look away so she wouldn't be transfixed.

The door opens and Zach sits next to her, putting his suitcases on the floor. When he shuts the door, his eyes widen at Cammie's pile of luggage. "I thought I said to only bring the necessities!" he exclaims.

"These _are _the necessities."

The taxi driver cleared his throat and looked at them with an exasperated expression on his face. "Where to?" he asks, again tapping the meter as a warning.

"The nearest airport," Zach replies. He looks at Cammie's pile of luggage once again and shakes his head.

"What?!"

"Nothing." He smirks and turns to look out for the window. An uncomfortable silence falls over them and Cammie busies herself by silently quizzing herself on what she remembers about what her cover was supposed to be. But the only thing she could remember was that she and Zach were posing as two rich businesspeople. And other than that… it was all blank.

The taxi pulls up to the LaGuardia airport and Cammie opens up her hobo bag to get her wallet out to pay; she was the one, after all, who had hailed the taxi in the first place. But Zach's hand reaches out and touches the inside of her wrist, stopping her. "I got it covered," he says, handing a ten dollar bill to the taxi driver. "Keep the change."

Zach gets out of the taxi and takes his luggage out to make room for Cammie. She gets out and slides her four suitcases across the seat. She picks up two of them and looks around for an airport attendant with a luggage cart. "I got it," Zach excuses, wrapping his big hands around the handles of her two remaining suitcases. He was now carrying his messenger bag on his shoulder, his two suitcases in his left hand, and her two suitcases in his right hand.

"Are you sure?" Cammie asks, slamming the taxi door so the cab could drive off. Zach doesn't answer, he just keeps walking towards the airport. Cammie follows him into the airport and past the ticket lines to the security gates. They pile their luggage on the conveyor belt to pass through the security check. Zach and Cammie, meanwhile, walk through the metal detector and pass without a beep. They collect their luggage on the other side and walk through the rest of the airport.

"What time is our flight?" Cammie asks.

"Our plane should be leaving in five minutes."

"Only five minutes?!"

"Calm down, we'll get there in time," Zach replies. They abandon their luggage on the conveyor belt that whisked them away to be loaded onto the plane, and they walk towards the separate terminals. He leads her into the fifth terminal and board the plane, after they had handed their tickets to the flight attendant at the door. They walk down the aisle of first class and Zach motions toward an empty row.

Cammie slides into the window seat and Zach sits next to her, getting the aisle seat. She holds her carry-on in her lap, and Zach puts his in the compartment above their heads. She reaches in and pulls out the manila folder of the mission files. Zach's eyes bug out and he closes his hand entirely around her wrist. "Put that away," he hisses.

"But I need to reread--"

"You can read in the hotel. Now put it away," he replies, glancing around their seats to see if anyone had been watching. Cammie slides the manila folder back into her bag and looks around, too. But there were only elderly people all around them. The old men were already asleep, and the old ladies were complaining about seat cushions to the flight attendants. She didn't know why Zach was being so overly-precautious.

The pilot's voice sounded over the speakers telling them all to put on their seatbelts for takeoff. Cammie and Zach buckle their seatbelts at the exact same time, and their knuckles brush against each other. But Cammie was too frustrated about him not letting her read her cover, which she _needs to know_, to care. The airplane takes off, and the same stomach-dropping feeling overcomes her as they rise up into the sky.

Cammie curls her feet up into her seat and she adjusts her miniskirt. She peers out the window and watches as the New York skyscrapers pass below them. Eventually, the plane was lifted higher and higher into the clouds, and the white water vapor zooms past them. Every now and then there would be a sliver of Earth showing below them through the clouds, but other than that, all was a creamy white color.

Her eyes flutter closed, her forehead still pressed to the cool glass window. She might actually have a chance to catch up on the sleep she didn't get last night. But as the plane hits some turbulence, the plane jolts and Cammie smacks her forehead against the window, waking her up. She rubs her forehead and sits up. She tries to recline her seat back, but it won't budge.

At the same time, a flight attendant was walking down the aisle and noticed Cammie's struggle. "Oh, sorry, Miss, but we've been having some trouble reclining those two seats. We think they're broken, but they should be fixed by your return trip," she says graciously and continues on down the aisle and through the curtain to second class.

Cammie scowls at her seat and rests her head against the headrest, knowing full well she wouldn't be able to get an ounce of sleep sitting straight up. "Cammie?" Zach's voice surprises her, making her flinch. "You can sleep against my shoulder, or in my lap, if you want. It doesn't matter to me."

She looks at him warily, seeing if he was trying to hit on her or something. But she saw nothing but honest sincerity in his dazzling emerald eyes. Cammie gives him a small, meek smile. "Thanks." She shifts her bent legs, the smooth fabric from her Uggs rubbing against the back of her thighs.

Cammie slowly leans against Zach's shoulder, a little nervous. But at least she would be getting some sleep soon. She closes her eyes, willing herself to fall asleep as soon as possible. Zach's shoulder shifts underneath her head as he lifts his arm and puts it around her waist. Cammie relaxes against his chest, which was a lot more comfortable than his shoulder. She curls herself closer to Zach, and falls asleep to the smell of his spicy cologne: a mix of mandarin, black plum, and sandalwood.

_"I have always loved truth so passionately that  
I have often resorted to lying as a way of introducing it  
to the minds of those ignorant to its charms."  
_**- Giacomo Casanova**

* * *

(Author's Note: Haha, cuuute. I can't wait to describe what's going to happen where they're going. Btw, Zach's cologne? I was describing the Balboa cologne from Hollister. Lol. It smells sooo good!)


	4. The Gist of Her Cover

Cammie opened her eyes and blinked the fogginess away, her gaze fixing on the rough polyester fabric of the airplane seat in front of her. A sleepy smile slides across her face, pleased with the surprisingly amazing nap she had just taken. She shifts her shoulders and looks out the window at the cerulean-blue sky. Suddenly, she notices an arm draped across her hips. Cammie cranes her neck backwards and looks at Zach, who she was leaning against.

"Have a nice nap?" he asks with the smirk that Cammie has grown to love and hate. Except with more love than hate… it was a good look for him.

She sits up and curls up in her own seat. "Um… yeah. Thanks," she says awkwardly. The pilot's voice came over the speakers and tells the passengers to re-attach their seatbelts for the landing. Cammie snaps her seatbelt across her torso and peers eagerly out the window. Zach had never said where they were headed to…

There seemed to be plenty of palm trees, and the sun was extremely bright. Out in the distance, the bright blue ocean matched the same cheery color as the cloudless sky. Her stomach dropped once more as the plane landed on a black asphalt runway. Heat waves glimmered off the blacktop from the heat from the sun. "Welcome to sunny Miami, Florida!" the flight assistant announced in an overly-peppy voice.

"Ohmygod, we're in _Miami_?" Cammie practically shrieked, turning to Zach.

"Yeah. But remember why we're here," he answered grimly. He stood up and removed his carry-on from the compartment above their heads. The plane was now relatively empty of passengers. Cammie unbuckled herself in a rush and followed Zach out of the plane. His mood swings were weirding her out, and he had nothing to blame it on, unlike PMS for her.

Right when they arrived to the baggage reclaim, Zach immediately pulled their luggage from the conveyor belt. It was as if he had memorized her luggage… or unless he had an extraordinary memory for detail, like any good spy should have. They grab their luggage and leave the airport, where they were greeted by a long line of honking taxi cabs. Barely a few steps outside, the sun was already baking pale, New York skin. She was glad she had on the miniskirt, but her Uggs felt like Death Valley.

Zach leads her to an empty taxi, where they cram their suitcases into the back seat and sit down. "The Four Seasons Hotel," Zach tells the driver while he slams the car door behind him. The cab pulls away from the curb and merges into traffic. Cammie looks out the windows, mesmerized by the skyscrapers, palm trees, and the ocean sparkling in the distance.

_"The human spy, in terms of the American espionage effort,  
had never been terribly pertinent."  
_**- Aldrich Ames**

Eventually, the taxi pulls up to the Four Seasons. Zach pays the driver, steps outside the taxi, and holds the door open for Cammie, who freezes in place on the sidewalk. "Holy. Shit," Cammie gasps, even though she rarely swore. But the hotel was _huge_! It towered over the other skyscrapers at 70 stories high, the silvery windows and metallic walls reflecting the dazzling sun. Palm trees surrounded the hotel, waving in the gentle breeze.

"Come on, Cam," Zach tells her, snapping her out of her reverie. The luggage was already piled on a luggage cart and a helpful bellboy was wheeling it into the lobby. They follow the bellboy into the lobby, and Cammie gasps. There was a rocky wall behind the reception desk where water trickled down from the massive ceiling. All along the walls, Latin American sculptures sat on neat pedestals.

Zach went up to the reception desk and began signing in. Cammie, meanwhile, slowly circled the room looking at the various artworks. Most of them looked strange and foreign, obviously, but others looked semi-normal. Just as she was examining a sculpture of an obese naked woman made out of obsidian, Zach walked up to her. "Hey, I still have to sign a few more papers at the front desk, but you can go ahead to our room and start unpacking. We're on the fifty-sixth floor, room 343," he explains, handing her one of the room keys.

"Sure," she replies. The bellboy was waiting next to the elevator for her, and Zach returns to the front desk. The elevator door opens and Cammie steps inside with the bellboy right behind her. "The fifty-sixth floor." He presses the button, and the elevator begins rising up.

When they finally reach the fifty-sixth floor, Cammie walks down the hallway and stops in front of room 343. She swipes her room key and opens the door, walking into a huge suite. The bellboy rolls the luggage cart in behind her and Cammie hands him a few dollar bills from her hobo bag. After he leaves, she shuts the door and turns to face the suite.

There was a huge king-size bed with creamy silk covers and dozens of pillows against one wall. The walls were a light yellow color, and the floors were covered in plush white carpet. Colorful ruby rugs were laying on the carpet here and there across the room. A huge window took up a whole wall and the flimsy white-silk drapes were pulled aside, revealing a view of downtown Miami and the Miami Beach. Two huge dressers were shoved to the wall and a plasma screen TV hung from the wall. Black-and-white pictures of tropical plants and beaches also decorated the wall.

In the next room were yellow-orange overstuffed sofas and lounge chairs. A dark mahogany coffee table sat in the middle with a bowl of decorative gold apples. Side tables by each arm of every seat held a wooden lamp with a yellow lampshade, which gave off a warm glow. The ceiling was high and had crystal lights dangling in zig-zag lines back and forth. A bar counter was against one wall, and had a vase of daisies on it. Behind the counter was a full-stocked minifridge. And by fully stocked, that meant stocked with various liquors, water bottles, and energy drinks.

The final room was a master bathroom with shiny marble floors and a tan granite counter. Plush white towels hung from gold hooks, and an antique bathtub with four legs was in the corner, surrounded by a flimsy gold-tinted curtain. Dozens of lightbulbs ran around the wall above the mirror, which ran completely around the room. It was almost as if the walls were made of mirrors, except there were still some slivers of yellow wallpaper showing here and there. A toilet with an old-fashioned handle for flushing dangled from the ceiling.

Cammie walked past the king-sized bed to the huge window and studied the beaches that were practically mobbed with surfers, tanners, and volleyball enthusiasts. A huge grin spread across her face and she leaped up onto a high-backed wooden chair. "Yessss!" Cammie exclaimed, bellyflopping from the chair onto the bed. She squeezes her eyes shut giddily and kicked her Uggs in the air.

"Well _some_body's happy to be here," Zach comments from the door.

Cammie bolts up in the bed, clears her throat, and calmly fixes her hair even though her heart was beating rapidly. "Um… just exactly how much of that did you see?" she asks, casually checking her nails then looking at the carpet.

"Just the part where you jumped onto the bed and started flailing your legs," he answered with a smirk. Her cheeks flared up a bright red color and she stood up from the bed, nonchalantly smoothing the wrinkles in the bedspread. Cammie clears her throat again and walks into the living room, sitting down on a yellow couch. Now would be an excellent time to reread her cover, especially to get her mind off that awkward moment.

She pulls the mission folder out of her hobo bag and was just pulling out her cover file when Zach stole the manila folder from her hands. "Yeah, I'll be needing this back, now that you're done with it," he explains.

"Wait! Okay, I _promise_ I read everything in my apartment, but I was so tired that I forgot my cover. Can't I just reread that one part real quick?" Cammie begs.

Zach raises an eyebrow as he glances at her. "Fine," he says. With a flick of his wrist, he tosses the mission file into her lap like a Frisbee. "But to give you the gist of it, you and I are a filthy-rich couple vacationing in Miami just to get away from all the pressures of being successful lawyers in New York City."

Cammie nods absentmindedly while digging her cover file from the mission folder. Zach hesitates a second until he finally walks back into the bedroom, probably to unpack. Suddenly, something about what Zach says makes Cammie freeze up. _Wait_, she thinks, _Zach and I have to pretend to be a COUPLE?_

_"Worthy or not,  
my life is my subject,  
and my subject is my life."  
_**- Giacomo Casanova**

**

* * *

**

(Author's Note: If you guys haven't stayed in Four Seasons Miami on vacation or whatever, I highly suggest looking up some pictures of it on Google Images. It's gorgeous. It's even better if you stay there on vacation ;) Lol. But seriously, check out some pictures of it. It'll help you understand the story when I describe some things later on in the story.)


	5. Lapidus Lounge at the Ritz Carlton

Cammie had finally finished unpacking all her things, and by then, it was 6:43p.m. Zach had disappeared about an hour ago, saying he had to make an important phone call; he had refused to tell her who he was calling, though. The front door opens and slams shut, and Zach walks into the walk-in closet where Cammie was still standing amongst her clothes.

"There's a formal party at the Lapidus Lounge at the Ritz Carlton in Coconut Grove. It's at seven," Zach explains. "There will be a couple there going by the names of Mr. and Mrs. Hemlock. We have reason to believe that they may have the disk with the blueprints for the nuclear weapon that was stolen from the Pentagon. But it may actually not be them. We just have to find out which room they're staying in, and we can snoop around their things for a bit. If we find something suspicious, then they could be a prime suspect. But if not…"

"And how do you think we'll get one of them to spill their room number?" Cammie asks, putting her hand on her hip. Her mind was scrolling through different questions she could ask to get them to tell.

"That's the part Joe left out. He said it was up to us to figure it out."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on. Joe? As in Joe Solomon?" Cammie gasps, even though she knew there were probably dozens of spies named Joe. It was a pretty common name.

"Yeah… I know he was your Co-Ops teacher at Gallagher, but he was also _my _Co-Ops teacher at Blackthorne," Zach explains.

Cammie's mind was reeling with all the information Zach had just given her, since he had been so secretive about everything up until then. "Mr. Solomon? At… Blackthorne?" she asks in a daze. It seems she could only speak if it was in questions.

"What, you think there are only spy schools for _girls_?"

"Blackthorne is a… boy's spy school?"

"Jeez, Gallagher girl, I would have thought you were faster than this," Zach jokes, tapping her temple with his pointer finger. Cammie rolls her eyes and slaps his hand away from her.

"This is serious, Zach. Where's Blackthorne? Why did you know about Gallagher but we didn't even know about you?" she asks.

"That information is top secret, Cam. Just focus on the party for now, okay? You'll figure it out eventually," he replies, winking at her and walking out of the closet.

_Just focus on the party for now_, Cammie repeats in her head. She turns to face all her clothes that were now hanging on the decorative hangers of the Four Seasons. _I'll figure the rest out eventually_.

After much internal debate, Cammie takes a strapless red dress off a hanger. She shuts the closet door and she strips off all her clothes and slips the dress over her head. In the mirror, Cammie twirled back and forth, examining the dress that she hadn't worn since learning how to ballroom dance in Madame Dabney's C&A class. Maybe it'll finally come in handy tonight.

The dress was a shimmery rose color, and it hugged Cammie's curves perfectly. It fell to just above her knees, and had a ruched waist. She picks out a pair of gold high heels and straps them on. Then she puts on a gold choker necklace, gold hoop earrings, and gold bangle bracelets. Cammie sets her Chi curling iron on high and lays it down on a small shelf in front of a mirror to warm up, where all her other hair and makeup products were. It was like a small vanity right in her walk-in closet.

A half hour later, Cammie had curled all her hair, and it spiraled down in brown locks to a few inches below her armpits. Right after she unplugs her curling iron and spritzes herself with Chanel No.5 perfume, Zach knocks on the closet door. She grabs a red silk clutch purse with a gold latch and opens the door. "I'm ready," she announces.

Zach stood there in a sleek black tux and shiny black dress shoes. His bright green eyes peeked out from under his dark brown hair, which he kept flicking off his forehead even though it would have looked fine where it was at. "You look great," he compliments with a shy grin.

"Thanks," Cammie replies with a smile, "You too." She squeezes past him through the narrow doorway and fills her red clutch with some pocket litter, in addition to her hotel room key. She and Zach leave the hotel room and into the hallway, down the elevator, and into the lobby. There were a few other people in dazzling ball gowns and sleek tuxes, walking outside into the sunset.

Outside, Zach leads Cammie over to a midnight-black Lamborghini parked against the curb. A driver climbs out of the driver's seat and tosses the keys to Zach, who climbs in and guns the engine. Cammie climbs into the passenger's seat, not knowing what to expect. "Where did you get this car from?" she asks as he drives the car into traffic, towards the Ritz Carlton in Coconut Grove.

"I just bought it. We can't go around riding taxis all the time if our cover is a wealthy couple. Besides, the CIA gave me an _insane_ budget for this mission," Zach boasts with a smirk.

"True," Cammie replies. If they were pretending to be ridiculously rich, they obviously shouldn't take a taxi everywhere they go. And, yes, it was also true that the CIA gave huge budgets to every mission, in case the need for anything arises.

"Hey, here's a fake wedding ring to go with your cover," Zach says, tossing something gold into the air. Cammie catches it and lifts it up to her eye. There was a large diamond surrounded by two smaller diamonds on each side, and the gold band fit exactly around her left ring finger.

"_Fake _wedding ring?"

"Okay, it's not actually fake. The gold and diamonds are real. Again, we have a massive budget. But… it's fake, as in, its only to match your cover. Um, you know what I mean," Zach explains awkwardly, running one hand through the dark brown hair on the back of his head. Now that she looked more carefully, Cammie saw the thick golden wedding ring on his finger too.

Finally, they arrive in Coconut Grove, an elegant neighborhood of parks, shopping centers, hotels, and houses in the center of Miami. In the distance, Cammie immediately spots the Ritz Carlton, a massive yellowish-gold hotel. It wasn't as tall as the Four Seasons, but it was spread over a great expanse of land with pools and palm trees all around it. They pull up to the parking valet tent in front of the entrance, and Zach takes out the keys and steps outside. As he hands the valet attendant the keys, Cammie steps outside of the car and stands next to Zach, like a normal wife would.

Zach holds out his elbow out to Cammie and asks, "May I?"

She smiles graciously and replies, "You may." She loops her hand through the crook of his elbow and they walk through the massive front doors of the hotel, held open by silent doormen. The valet attendant drives off in the Lamborghini to park it in the expansive parking lot.

Inside the hotel, the Ritz Carlton was just as elegant and chic as the Four Seasons. Instead of Latin statues and a waterfall wall, the lobby was decorated in a classy brown-and-gold color scheme. There were chairs and heavy curtains and looming grandfather clocks all around, making it look like one massive living room.

They walk down the hallway and up to the heavy oak doors of the Lapidus Lounge. A thick red velvet rope was strung across the entrance, and a bouncer was standing next to a lady with a headset and clipboard. "This hotel is just lovely," Cammie says, looking around at all the detail in the furnished hallways as they wait in line behind two other couples.

"I know. Too bad we couldn't have stayed here for our honeymoon," Zach answers, lowering his lips to her ear. Tingles shoot down her spine, even though she knew he was just keeping up the charade of their covers. Cammie shoots him a sly look over her shoulder, hoping he knew she was just playing along too.

"Name?" the lady with the clipboard asks, her pen hovering over the paper.

"Mr. and Mrs. Goode," he answers. The lady's eyes scan over the clipboard and her pen makes two checkmarks on the list. She nods at the bouncer, and he unhooks the velvet VIP rope, motioning into the lounge.

They walk into the lounge-slash-bar, which was already bustling with wealthy-looking couples. All the tables and chairs had been removed from the room to make room for the crowd, and soft classical music was playing. A few couples who knew how to ballroom dance were slowly sweeping across the hardwood floor in one corner of the room. The lights around the walls of the room were dimmed, adding a more elegant ambiance to the room. Zach swiftly took two flutes of champagne from a waitress walking by and hands one to Cammie. "Cheers," he tells her, lifting his flute into the air.

Cammie lifts her flute to his, carefully clinking the glass together and making sure not to spill any of the bubbly, honey-colored liquid. "Cheers," she repeats. They both take small sips and the champagne fizzes as it goes down her throat.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Zachary Goode. How are ya, man?" says a self-assured male voice from behind them. Cammie turns around to see an extremely handsome man their age, with a chiseled jaw, a blonde buzz cut, and broad arms. Cammie hypothesized that if the squinted and tilted her head a bit, which she wouldn't even _think _about doing at an extravagant party like this, he would look exactly like a Greek god.

"Hey, Grant! What's up?" Zach replies, bumping his fist against his friend's. Cammie's brain clicks. This was Grant Newman, the spy that would be helping them during their mission.

"Not much. But aren't you going to introduce me to this beautiful woman?" Grant asks with a smirk almost identical to the one on Zach's face. _Do all boys know how to smirk like this, or is it just a spy thing?_, Cammie wonders.

"This is Cameron. We got married about three months ago," Zach explains.

Cammie shakes Grant's large hand and says, "Nice to meet you."

"You too, Cameron."

"Call me Cammie."

"Sure thing, Cammie," Grant replies with a wink.

Suddenly, somebody wraps their arms around Cammie's shoulders and lets out a loud shriek. "Cammieeee!" the person squeals in a high voice. She gasps as she recognizes the voice she hadn't heard in way too long.

"Bex!" Cammie exclaims, spinning around and hugging her friend. They both squeezed each other so hard they were left gasping for air; huge bear-hugs from spies could do that to you. "I haven't seen you in forever!"

"I know, right?! And hey. Why wasn't I invited to your wedding?" she demands.

Cammie smiles awkwardly, hoping Bex was keeping up with their covers. But by the teasing look in her eyes, she obviously was. She wasn't as blonde as Liz was sometimes. "Oh, it was a sudden thing. It wasn't even a real formal wedding. Just a spontaneous Las Vegas kinda thing. Except not really, because we weren't drunk, and we actually meant it. We just wanted to be married as quick as possible," Cammie lies off the top of her head.

"I know, I was just kidding you," Bex says, giving Cammie's shoulder a tiny shove. But then her French-tipped nails dig into Cammie's skin as she pulls her friend closer to whisper in her ear, "But who's that hot guy talking to Zach over there?"

"Wait… you know who Zach is?"

"Obviously. We're working together, remember?" Bex answers. She made it sound like they were co-workers at a business instead of conspiring spies in a mission. "He introduced himself to me over the phone. But _who _is that guy with him? He looks like… a god!"

"That's exactly what I thought!" Cammie blurts. "His name is Grant. Grant Newman. Didn't Zach tell you about him on the phone?"

"No. Zach just said Liz and I would be helping you and him."

"Figures. You practically have to tie Zach down to a polygraph test to get any information out of him. But yeah, you and Liz are helping us, but so are two of Zach's friends. Grant and Jonas. I haven't met Jonas yet, though. Speaking of Liz, where is she?" Cammie asks, quickly informing Bex on everything.

"I got a phone call from Zach to come here. Just in case. But just in case of what… I don't know. Liz wasn't on call. So she's not here. I have a feeling we'll be seeing her later, though," Bex reports.

Cammie nods, and turns her head as she feels a warm hand on her shoulder.

It was Zach. "Would you like to meet some of the other guests at the party?" he hints. "I'm sure you and Bex will be able to catch up later." He places his empty champagne flute on a passing waitress' tray.

"Right," Cammie notes. "See you, Bex."

"Bye, Cam."

Cammie follows Zach through the crowd, which has some how gotten larger as time passed. If any more people showed up at the party, it would begin getting seriously cramped. "Meet my teacher from Blackthorne, Dr. Steve Sanders," Zach introduces her to a fifty-something year old man with a terrible brown comb-over and a hint of a beer-belly, but with deep blue eyes and a bright smile.

"Please, call me Dr. Steve," he says, pumping Cammie's hand up and down in a frenzied handshake.

"Well. A pleasure to meet you, Dr. Steve," Cammie replies, glancing at Zach. But his eyes were still watching Dr. Steve, who lets go of Cammie's hand and motions them both closer to him.

Cammie and Zach lean in, and Dr. Steve whispers, "According to Joe Solomon, Mrs. Hemlock is wearing white silk gloves. I have no idea what she looks like, though, and lots of ladies are wearing white silk gloves. So good luck." He stands up straight and loudly claps his hands together. "Well!" he exclaims, "I really _must _try one of their hand-shaken martinis. Adios!"

"And I think _I'll _go sample one of their raspberry-mint cocktails," Cammie says, hinting that they should split up to look for Mrs. Hemlock before the party was over. "I'll meet up with you later."

In order to make their relationship at least a little more convincing, she puts her hand on Zach's shoulder and reaches up to kiss him on the cheek. His skin was smooth, warm, and smelled like Polo Ralph Lauren aftershave. She gives him a small smile before turning and weaving her way through the crowd.

Cammie casually stood a few yards away from every woman who wore white silk gloves, waiting for the woman's name to come up in the conversation. Whenever somebody would address the woman as somebody else other than Mrs. Hemlock, Cammie would move on to the next victim. And the whole way through the room, she kept her eyes glued to the waitress' trays as if she were looking for a particular drink. Eventually, she finds the raspberry-mint cocktails, and she plucks one from the tray.

As Cammie takes her first sip, though, the urge to spit the drink back up overwhelms her. But, like any good spy, she overcomes her urge and keeps a straight face. She had just heard a man call a woman 'Mrs. Hemlock,' somewhere behind her. The man continued to talk about stocks and trading and then something else that Cammie couldn't quite hear.

She turns around and sees the man talking to a lady who looked to be about thirty. Mrs. Hemlock wore an emerald-green floor-length dress. She had fiery red hair that cascaded down her back in waves, and black stilettos. But best of all, she had white silk gloves up to her elbows. Cammie took a deep breath and gripped her cocktail glass more firmly.

Time to improvise.

_"Somebody said that my course of work  
would be an interesting source of material."  
-_ **Melita Norwood**

Cammie stepped up to their little circle and held a hand out to Mrs. Hemlock. All their talking stopped abruptly as they stared at her, but her smile didn't waver. "Mrs. Hemlock! How are the stocks going? I've been meaning to ask you about the best thing out there, but I kept forgetting," Cammie blurts, forcing her voice to sound like the overly-excited party people here.

Mrs. Hemlock takes Cammie's hand and shakes it warily. A little shock shoots through Cammie's fingertips as their hands connect. "Why, the stocks are good… Very good. May I ask your name again?" Mrs. Hemlock asks.

Cammie makes her smile to go wider, letting out an 'oh, please' chuckle. "Cameron Goode. We met once before at a party very much like this one," Cammie improvises. She hoped Mrs. Hemlock wouldn't ask _which _party, because she'd have no idea what to say then. She was making it all up, after all.

Mrs. Hemlock stares at Cammie for a few seconds before a polite smile broke across her lips. "The very same Cameron I met at that one fundraiser…?" she asks.

"The very same," Cammie confirms.

"I forgot what the cause of the fundraiser was for, though. Remind me?"

"Oh, I have no idea, either," she lies. "It was so long ago, and all the causes of all the different fundraisers seem to run together." Cammie waves her hand dismissively in the air.

"Very true," Mrs. Hemlock imparts. Her gaze scans the crowd, as if looking for a distraction.

"So, what about this hotel?" Cammie asks, hoping that Mrs. Hemlock would randomly mention the number of her hotel room. "Very elegant, don't you think?"

"I've seen better. The rooms aren't even that appealing."

"Oh, really?" Cammie replies, pretending to act appalled. "I truly hate hotels that try to put out so much effort to look nice from the outside, but once you get a room, then it looks terrible."

"That's exactly what it's like!" Mrs. Hemlock exclaims.

"Well, at least you have a good view of Miami, am I right?"

"Definitely! We always make sure to stay in the room with the best view," she boasts.

"So you must be on the very top floor, right? If the hotel room doesn't have a good view, I always request a different room," Cammie adds. "Or if I don't like the room number, I'll change the rooms so its easy to remember."

"I do that too!"

"Really?" Cammie exclaims, pretending to be baffled. "I especially like hotel rooms with all the same numbers. It just makes it so much easier to memorize."

"I'm doing that right now," Mrs. Hemlock admits with a low chuckle. Cammie laughs along and scans the room. _I think I have enough information on her hotel room_, she thinks. She takes a long sip of her raspberry-mint cocktail. Suddenly she's aware of Mrs. Hemlock's face right next to hers. "Do you know somebody here by the name of Cammie Morgan?" she whispers. "I need to find her to… _talk_ about something."

"Sorry, I don't know anybody named Cammie. I'll look out for her, though. Speaking of which, I have to go. Nice talking to you," Cammie tells her, her heart pounding. She spins around, weaving through the crowd and trying to put as much distance between her and Mrs. Hemlock. She puts her half-drank cocktail on a waitress' tray, not in the mood to drink anymore.

_Why does Mrs. Hemlock want to 'talk' to me?_

Cammie spots Zach standing by the wall, casually sipping a cherry martini and looking around the room. She grabs his arm, her nails digging into the sleeves of his tux. "Let's dance," she suggests calmly, pulling him towards the corner of the room. Zach abandons his drink on a small table, curious as to what Cammie so desperately had to talk to him about alone on the dancefloor.

_"I find the earth to be a place of misery  
in which I am surrounded by  
the conformity that kills society."  
-_** Matt LeBlanc**

**

* * *

**

(Author's Note: Sorry if it's seemed like Zach's a better spy than Cammie. Trust me, she's just been caught a bit off-guard after everything that has happened so quickly. Later on in the story, Zach won't be able to complete the mission without her (: So… yeah. Lol. Leave a comment!)


	6. You Aren't Going to Believe

Zach and Cammie step onto the dancefloor and immediately they step into ballroom-dancing position. She puts her left hand on his right shoulder and puts her right hand in his left one. He puts his hand on her lower back and begins leading her in a dance to Four Seasons by Vivaldi. Which was ironic, because the song was the exact name of the hotel they were staying at.

"So. Have you found Mrs. Hemlock?" Zach asks in a hushed tone. Whenever his hand on her back added a little pressure, Cammie knew which way to step to keep following his lead.

"Yes. I told her my name was Cameron Goode. I made conversation with her until she gave me the information of her hotel number," Cammie says with a boastful grin. Her pelvis barely grazed Zach's pelvis, like it was supposed to, but their chests weren't smashed against each other because her back was slightly arched.

Zach's eyebrows shoot up. "She actually gave you her room number?"

"Not exactly. I got enough tips out of her to know approximately which one it was. But… she's looking for me," Cammie says with a hint of fear in her voice.

"Right now?" Zach replies, momentarily hesitating before resuming dancing once more.

"No. Definitely not. But right before I left her, she asked me if I knew Cammie Morgan. She said she wanted to '_talk_' to me. Although I'm sure that's not the only thing she was planning on doing once she found me," Cammie explains.

"True. Okay, how about we get into her room right now and then we get out of here?" Zach suggests. Cammie nods and he leads her to the edge of the dancefloor, where they keep dancing until the song ends.

"Bex!" Cammie calls out to her friend, who was making conversation with Grant. They both had champagne flutes in their hands. "Zach and I are going to Mrs. Hemlock's room. But we don't know where Mr. Hemlock is."

"He's right over there. The man with the black ponytail standing next to Mrs. Hemlock," Bex answers, nudging her head a little in the direction of Mr. and Mrs. Hemlock.

"You sure that's him?"

"Sure I'm sure," Bex insists.

"Stay in here and be sure they don't leave this room. We'll be back in ten minutes to get you two and then we can all leave," Zach butts in. Bex and Grant nod, mission accepted, and Zach begins walking out of the room.

Cammie and Zach walk back out to the lobby, and Cammie presses the Up button on the elevator. Once the doors open, she steps inside and presses the button for the very top floor. "Are you sure you know her room?" Zach asks.

"Of course. She said she got the best view in the entire hotel, which would obviously be on the top floor," Cammie confirms. Once the doors open on the top floor, she leads the way down the hallway. "Then she said she only picks a room number with all the same numbers, and there are only one of those on each floor."

Cammie stops in front of room number 555, and she motions towards it. "Which would only mean one thing," she continues, "This must be Mr. and Mrs. Hemlock's room."

"Good job, Gallagher girl," Zach compliments with a wondrous grin on his face.

"Yeah, yeah. Now how are we gonna get in?"

"Leave that to me," he replies, brandishing a hotel room key from his breast pocket and using it to open the door. "This is a room card that can open any hotel door. Kinda like a wild card."

They step into a pitch-black apartment, and Cammie snaps on the lightswitch. The hotel looked exactly like their hotel room at the Four Seasons, except this hotel room had less furnishings and was decorated in a navy-and-silver color scheme. "Look for anything remotely suspicious," Zach orders.

They split up, Cammie to the bedroom and Zach to the living room. She searches under the mattress, under the pillows, underneath the bed, and through the sheets. She fixes the bed to erase all traces she was even there.

Next she heads to the bed table, and she searches all the drawers. Everywhere in the drawer, underneath the drawer, behind the table. But there was nothing to find. Cammie had even lifted the little rug in the center of the room, but nothing was there.

She goes into the closet, turning on the light. She ruffles through the clothes, quickly searching all the pockets but turning up empty. On a high shelf was a glass jar full of various coins from different countries. It looked like a haphazard coin collection. As she was reaching past it towards a shoebox, the jar tipped over and several dozen coins spilled onto the hardwood floor. It sounded like hail on a tin roof, and Cammie winced.

Zach ran into the closet, tie ruffled. "What happened?" he asks quickly, but once he sees the mess, he shuts his mouth.

Both Cammie and Zach bend down and begin picking up the coins. In minutes, all of them were picked up. But Cammie looks around on her hands and knees to be sure they didn't miss anything. A glint of silver peeks out from under a vanity, just like the one in her closet at their hotel. Cammie picks up the silver half-dollar, but gasps as it completely breaks in half; each side of the coin was separate, showing a hollowed-out center.

"Ohmygod," Cammie breathes. There was a neon-blue computer chip hidden in the hollowed-out center. She takes out the chip and puts the half-dollar back together. She stands up, returns the coin to the jar, and snaps off the light.

Zach was back in the living room, searching the couch cushions. "Look at what was hidden in a hollowed-out half-dollar," Cammie gushes, holding out the computer chip.

"Wow. Good thing you knocked over that jar, then, right?" Zach says, taking the chip and turning it over and over in his hands. "This must be it. But even if its not, we should get going. We've been in here long enough, and we have no way for Bex or Grant to contact us if Mr. or Mrs. Hemlock leaves the lounge."

Cammie takes the computer chip and sticks it in her purse. They leave the hotel room, shutting off all the lights. They retreat back down the elevator, and sign back into the party with the lady with the clipboard. "There they are," Cammie points out Grant and Bex, who were dancing together.

As they approach their friends-slash-subordinates, Bex and Grant stop dancing, ready to leave the party. Mr. and Mrs. Hemlock were a few yards away, talking to a group of women their age. "Cammie, you ready to go?" Bex asks, looping an arm through Cammie's.

"Bex," Cammie hisses, eyes flickering over to Mrs. Hemlock, who snaps her head over to Cammie and her friends. Mrs. Hemlock grabs Mr. Hemlock's arm, pulling him through the crowd.

"Cammie," Zach utters, grabbing her wrist and pulling her away from Bex.

"Bex! Grant! Keep Mr. and Mrs. Hemlock away from us as long as possible," Cammie hurries to explain, "They're after me."

"We have to go," Zach commands, pulling Cammie through the crowd and away from the Hemlocks. Behind them, she hears a waitress' cry and the crash of dozens of drink glasses shattering on the floor. Cammie looks over her shoulder and sees Mrs. Hemlock skidding to a stop in front of a pool of glass shards and liquor on the floor. Bex was apologizing profusely to the waitress for her "accident."

Zach and Cammie ran out of the lobby and outside of the hotel to the valet tent. The sun was down, and a full moon was spilling white light across the blacktop. "Zachary Goode," he barks at the attendant, who sorts through the rings of car keys. Once the attendant holds it in the air and opens his mouth to talk, Zach snatches the keys from his hands and continues, "We'll get our own car, thanks."

Zach pulls on Cammie's arm, nearly yanking it out of the socket. She hobble-sprints behind him in her high heels, running on tip-toe so as to not break a heel. He presses the lights on the key ring and the Lamborghini flashes its headlights at the far corner of the parking lot.

Cammie looks behind and Mr. and Mrs. Hemlock were just running out of the doors of the hotel. They immediately spotted them in the still parking lot. "They're coming!" she reports.

"Then we'll just have to outrun them, won't we?" Zach replies.

They finally make it to the car, and they throw the doors open, climb inside, and slam the doors shut all at once. Zach thrusts the key into the ignition and twists it so hard Cammie was sure the key would snap. The engine roars to life, and the headlights automatically turn on, illuminating the parking lot in front of them. He snaps off the headlights, leaving them in the dark, and he presses down on the gas pedal.

The Lamborghini shoots forward, and Cammie's body is pressed against the seat from the speed as Zach drives out of the parking lot and onto the road winding away from the hotel. Suddenly, bright white headlights shine through the back window and illuminate the interior of the Lamborghini.

Cammie turns around in her seat and Zach checks the rearview mirror. It was Mr. and Mrs. Hemlock, tailing them in a black Ferrari Enzo, one of only 399 in the world. Suddenly, the metallic shots of a gun was heard behind them. "Get down!" Zach commands tersely, glancing at Cammie. She slumps down in her seat to block herself from being shot.

"Well, I think _they _have something to be guilty about," Zach says casually, steadily pushing the gas pedal down more and more.

"What was your first guess? Them chasing after us, or them trying to _shoot _at us?" Cammie asks sarcastically. Zach just smirks at her and spins the steering wheel, careening them around a sharp corner. Cammie buckles her seatbelt with shaking hands and clings to her armrests.

They speed down the road, and Mr. and Mrs. Hemlock slowly get smaller and smaller behind them. Zach avoids all the heavily-trafficked Miami streets. He sticks to the small suburb roads, taking thoughtless turns around sudden corners and ramping the speed up to blurring speeds.

_"He's used to life in the fast lane.  
He travels all over the world,  
risks his life racing at over 200 miles an hour,  
and seems to be handy with a gun."_  
**- Mata Hari**

"Okay, I know you're trying to lose our tail and all, but do you have to be so reckless?" Cammie demands.

"It's called evasive driving, sweetheart," Zach replies. He was sitting straight in the driver's seat, feet expertly navigating the pedals. His black tie was loosened and his dark hair was ruffled. He takes one hand off the wheel and casually drapes his arm over Cammie's headrest. She turns around and peers out the back window, over his forearm. There was no sign of Mr. or Mrs. Hemlock.

"So… where are we going? We obviously can't turn around and start heading back to the Four Seasons… we might accidentally run into Mr. or Mrs. Hemlock," Cammie asks.

"I know. And we're not. We're staying at Grant's apartment on the other side of town. We've pre-planned to meet there if anything bad happened during the mission. Which, it has. So Bex will probably be there too," Zach explains. His Blackberry vibrates in his pocket, and he withdraws his arm from her headrest to bring it up to his ear. "Hey, Grant."

Zach is silent for a while as Grant says something, then Zach replies with, "Yeah, we just lost them. We're on our way over there." He's silent for a few more seconds, and Cammie can hear Grant's muffled voice coming from the phone, but she can't make out the words. Zach continues, "I know, I know. We can talk once we get there. And we have to look at the chip Cammie found in the hotel room. Listen, we're just a few blocks away. I'll see ya soon."

Zach hangs up on his friend and tucks his phone back into his pocket. Cammie opens her purse and looks at the bright blue computer chip sitting at the very bottom, between a tube of lipgloss and her hotel key. "Do you really think that this is all the information from the disk that was stolen? That this mission is pretty much over?" Cammie thinks out-loud.

"Oh, it's far from over. The disk stolen is an actual computer disk, which means that the original copy is still out there. So we'd have to find Mr. or Mrs. Hemlock and interrogate them until they tell us who else is on their side. Which may take up to a whole week, depending on how stubborn they are," Zach informs her.

He turns the car into a dark alley and parallel-parks between two dumpsters. Cammie looks up at the ominous-looking apartment building next to them. "Grant lives _here_?"

"Nah, I just couldn't park in front of his actual apartment building in case the Hemlocks are driving around looking for our car. His apartment is just a block away from here," Zach explains. They step out of the car and lock the doors. Zach leads the way out of the alley and down the sidewalk. Eventually they get to a large brick building with flower boxes at the windows, though most of the flower boxes were empty with a few stray cigarette butts.

They walk into the front door and into the overly air-conditioned foyer. Zach presses a few buttons on a speaker on the wall and Grant's distinct deep voice answers, "Yeah?"

"Hey, Grant. We're coming up now," Zach speaks into the speaker. Cammie presses the button on an elevator next to her, and the hum from the elevator echoes through the foyer.

"Kay, see ya soon. The door will be unlocked when you get here." The elevator's doors open right as Zach drops his finger from the button on the speaker. They stepped into the elevator and rode it up to the sixth floor. On the sixth floor, Zach went up to the room right to the left of the elevator and opened the door.

Grant and Bex were sitting on a brown leather couch in front of a big screen TV. The Miami local news was on, and a lady with bleached hair was shuffling a stack of papers behind a large desk. Her neon-pink lips were moving rapidly, but the TV was muted and they couldn't hear anything. "Cammie!" Bex explains, leaping off the couch. She was still in her creamy-white dress from the party, which made her tan skin look even darker. "Thank god you're finally here. Grant and I heard something on the news that you _aren't _going to believe."

"What is it?" Cammie asks.

"The people who stole the disk from the Pentagon? They sent a ransom note to the people at the Pentagon. It said that they were almost done collecting the parts for the nuclear weapon, and if all spies weren't withdrawn from their duties trying to steal back the blueprints, then they would actually build and _use _the weapon to attack the Pentagon and then Washington D.C.," Bex blurts, not taking one breath the whole time. She finally gasps in air and waits for Cammie's reaction.

"So… the government finally released to the public what happened at the Pentagon?" she asks.

"Not exactly," Bex answers, "They just said that a mysterious Radical terror group threatened to bomb the Pentagon and the White House with a nuclear weapon unless the government removes all spies from their missions. The government didn't include anything about how the blueprints for the nuclear weapon were stolen from the Pentagon in the first place, or else that would show insufficient security that would worry the public."

"Interesting," Zach comments. "Did Solomon call and say if we were removed from the mission?"

"Actually, yeah, he did," Grant replies, "He says that the government publicly took all spies away from their missions in order to convince the enemies that they shouldn't use the weapon. We'll be the only spies still on our mission to stop the bombers. But if Mr. or Mrs. Hemlock get back to their leaders or comrades or whatever and tell them about us, then they'll know that not all the spies were relieved from their duties and the Pentagon and the White House will be bombed, which is why it's so necessary for us not to be caught."

"Damn," Zach murmurs. He raises his eyes to the ceiling like he was thinking, then he drops his gaze and scans his comrade's faces. "Okay, first thing tomorrow, we're gonna get out and go find Mr. and Mrs. Hemlock. We have to make it so that there is no possible way their information can get back to whoever they're working for. Liz and Jonas will come along too, because, according to their files, they work best on computers so tracking the Hemlocks should be easy."

"Sounds good, dude," Grant says. "Alright, Cammie, I understand you're the one with the computer chip?"

"Yeah, its right in my purse," she replies, taking out the chip and handing it to Grant.

"Hmm. It might have been handy to have Jonas here right now," grant murmurs, turning the chip in his hands before finally plugging it into the laptop on the coffee table in front of the couch.

"Or Liz. She could get it done practically immediately," Bex boasts.

"Too bad neither Jonas _or _Liz will be in Miami until tomorrow, which was when I told them to get here," Zach says grimly, watching over Grant's back as file after file downloaded on the laptop. He stood with his arms crossed across his broad chest, his green eyes steadily watching the computer screen, and his square jaw firmly clenched. Along with the tuxedo, his looks made Cammie feel faint.

"How long could this take to open the file?" Cammie asks.

"I don't know, a few more minutes, maybe?" Grant answers. Turns out, they all had mediocre computer skills, and it took two more hours of opening random files, accepting download attachments, exiting out of JPEG pop-ups, and sluggish loading until the blueprints were finally brought up onto the screen.

_"I know you like to keep an eye on me.  
Keep an eye on me, but if you want it got to let it be.  
Lipstick's on, stockings up.  
Skirt's short, heels are high.  
Take your time, buckle up.  
Close your eyes and enjoy the ride."_  
**- Spy by Shakira**

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(Author's Note: Sorry this took me so long. I couldn't find a good stopping place, and I didn't want to end this chapter too short either. So… yeah. Ugh, I say that way too much! 'So… yeah.' I need a new catch-phrase. Something like… Holy cleavage, Batman! Jayyykayyy. Lol. But I heard somebody say that when our slutty dance team at school was dancing during our assembly today. It was mucho hilarioso. Anyway, review! The more reviews I get, the faster I'll update! Promise.)


	7. Shouldn't See Any More

"I gotta take a piss," Grant announces, standing up from the couch and leaving Zach alone at the laptop. Cammie and Bex were curled up on the couch, watching the computer screen for progress.

"Lovely," Bex grumbles, rolling her eyes. Grant snickers and walks down the hallway into the bathroom.

Cammie groans and leans against her best friend's shoulder. "How long have we been at this?" she murmurs. It was midnight, and she was having trouble keeping her eyes open after all the commotion at the party and not getting any sleep the night before.

Bex cranes her neck backwards to check the time on the digital clock on the microwave in Grant's kitchen. "Uh… about two hours," she answers.

"Really?"

"Well, technically, two hours, twelve minutes, and forty-three seconds if you want to be specific about it," Bex says with a grin. She reaches over and pinches the smooth fabric of Cammie's red dress and rubs it between her fingers. "Hey, you wanna borrow some of my pajamas for tonight? We could get out of these uncomfortable dresses."

"Sure. But… why do you have your pajamas here?" Cammie asks. She glances over at Zach, who had taken off his black tux jacket and was in his crisp white shirt. He had, of course, rolled up the sleeves to his elbows and loosened his tie so it just dangled from his neck. His black dress shoes were kicked off, too, and his black socks were wrinkled. His gaze was still focused on the unending list of various windows opened up on the desktop.

"On our way here from the party, Grant stopped by my hotel room and we picked up my luggage, since we figured we should all stay together while Mr. and Mrs. Hemlock are, you know, out to get us and all," Bex explains. They stand up and head down the hallway, where Bex shows Cammie a green-and-white decorated guest bedroom. "Grant said I could stay in here for now. And I'm guessing you'll sleep in here tonight also."

Cammie opens her mouth to say something, but Bex closes the bedroom door and immediately begins bombarding Cammie with questions. "Where did you meet Zach? How old is he? Do you think Grant is cute? What about Zach?" Bex blurts, "And what if--"

Cammie smacks a hand over her friend's mouth, silencing her. "Seriously, Bex? First you blow my cover at the party, now you blabber like there is no possible way there could be hidden microphones in here," Cammie hints. "Is it just me, or has your work been getting sloppier over the years?"

Bex pushes Cammie's hand off her mouth and raises an eyebrow at her. "Need I demonstrate a round-house kick to your head to demonstrate just how _un_-sloppy I am?" Bex suggests threateningly, although there was a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

"I'm good," Cammie backs off, holding two hands up in surrender. Then she lowers her hands and smiles at her friend. "Just look for bugs and then I'll answer any ridiculous questions you ask," she commands in a hushed whisper.

Seven minutes and eight sneezes later (turns out Grant hadn't vacuumed or dusted the guest room for approximately five months), they had come up with three bugs and even one small video camera about the size of a dime. "I had a feeling Grant was a major perv the second I met him," Cammie admitted, expertly disassembling the hidden camera with a pair of nail clippers. "But I can't believe he hid a video camera in here, though."

"I know, he's so perverted. But he's kinda cute, dontcha think?" Bex contemplates, lightly juggling the dismantled shells of the bugs they had found. Then she squeezes the bugs in one fist and buries them deep in her suitcase for later use.

"Like a Greek god."

"That's what _I _thought!" Bex exclaims. "But I call him. You already have Zach."

"What do you mean I have Zach?"

"Well, haven't you kissed him yet?" Bex asks.

"No! Just on the cheek, but that was only to keep up my cover."

"Mmhmm. I bet it was _only _to keep your cover," Bex hints, opening her suitcase and digging to the bottom for her pajamas.

Cammie's jaw drops. "What do you mean by that?" she asks, "That I actually _wanted _to kiss Zach?"

Bex lays out several pairs of pajamas on her bed for them to choose from. She just shrugs indicatively and picks up a black silk cami out of her suitcase. "Well… he's cute, smart, and a spy. It would definitely work out better than Josh," Bex explains, unzipping her dress, which falls to the floor.

"Ugh, don't remind me," Cammie groans, unzipping her own dress and taking it off. She carefully lays it across the bed and scans Bex's pajamas that she was going to borrow. "Do you have anything that isn't see-though, silk, or from Victoria's Secret?" she asks.

Bex slips the black silk cami over her head and adjusts it over her torso. She taps a finger on her bottom lip. "Uh… not really. Macey's changed me for the better. No longer will I wear boxer shorts and extra-large sweatshirts to bed!" Bex exclaims dramatically. "Here, choose this." She tosses an emerald-green silk cami at her friend, whose eyes widen.

"I can't wear this! It… it matches Zach's eyes!" Cammie protests.

Bex rolls her eyes and gives Cammie a look. "You know the color of Zach's eyes? And you say you don't like him? I'm bloody crushing big-time on Grant, and heck, I have _no _idea what color his eyes are!" Bex exclaims, her British accent notable.

"No comment," Cammie grumbles, quickly taking off her dress and slipping the green silk cami over her head. It was slippery and cool against her skin, but no matter what, she couldn't stop noting how identical the green cami was to Zach's eyes.

"Take these, then, too," Bex tells her, tossing over a pair of short black silk shorts. Cammie catches them, takes one look at them, then tosses them right back.

"Um… do you have anything _longer_?"

Bex sighs and puts the black shorts morosely back into her suitcase. "I have a pair of basketball shorts," she suggests, pulling them out of her suitcase and holding them up. They were black, mesh, and were knee-length.

"That's better," Cammie says smugly. She reaches over, plucks the shorts out of her friend's hands, and puts them on. The shorts were a little big; they sat low on her hips, but if Cammie pulled the strings, they didn't fall down any more.

"We got it!" the girls hear Grant yell from the living room.

Bex and Cammie make eye contact, and Cammie opens the door and sprints out of the room. Bex hops after her friend while pulling on white silk shorts over her legs. "You got it?!" Cammie exclaims, running into the living room and stopping in front of the couch. Bex crashes into Cammie's back and peeks around her shoulder to look at the laptop screen.

"_He _had nothing to do with it. He was pissing in the bathroom when I finally opened it," Zach growls, punching Grant's shoulder. Grant flinches and smirks at his friend.

"Well I _would _have opened it if I hadn't drank three martinis and two cocktails at the party," Grant excuses himself.

"We don't care about your overactive bladder!" Bex exclaims, causing Cammie to laugh. Bex shoves the guys aside, leaving room for the two girls in front of the laptop. Zach and Grant catch their balance and huddle around Cammie and Bex, who were mesmerized by the screen.

Neon-blue blueprints were stretched across the screen here and there, and bunches of graphs were lined across the sides. Statistics scrolled slowly across the top of the screen, and a white outlined three-dimensional model of the nuclear weapon rotated in the bottom-right corner. "Anybody know how to work this?" Cammie asks, taking hold of the mouse that Grant had attached to the laptop. She waves the mouse back and forth across the coffee table, pondering on what to click on first.

"Try the first page of blueprints. All we have to find out is the substances used in the nuclear weapon so that Jonas can track down the concentrated amounts of those substances in Miami. Wherever the map shows the substances are, that's probably where they're building the nuclear weapon and we can show up to stop them," Zach explains.

Cammie clicks on the first blueprint that was littered across the screen. Once she clicks on it, the blueprint maximizes to full-screen with a list of complicated materials needed. Then there were steps on collecting those materials, but they were written in such extremely long words that it would take an English major out of college to read them. "There!" Bex points out, holding a fingertip to the screen, "Plutonium and Uranium. They're the first and second on the list, which means they must be needed in pretty large quantities."

"True," Cammie admits. "Somebody write this down." Grant gets a pad of paper and a pen from the junk drawer in the kitchen. He jots down 'Plutonium and Uranium' in his scrawling, sloped boy-writing.

"What else?" Grant asks.

"Go back and try to click the full-scale model of the weapon. I want to see what we're dealing with," Zach suggests. Cammie navigates the mouse and clicks several times until the rotating model of the nuclear weapon is stretched across the screen.

It resembled a rocket, but from their Military Weapons class at Gallagher, it was twice the size of the hydrogen bomb and the atomic bomb. A small paragraph was scrolling upwards to the left of the model, and numbers were flashing across all the other places with empty space. Cammie quickly speed-read the paragraph, murmuring the words to herself.

"The bomb is able to plow seven hundred and fifty feet into the ground upon impact in the earth due to its weight, measuring a 235 on the atomic weight scale. Once unable to dig any deeper, the bomb will detonate. Its chemical reactions are similar to both the H-Bomb and the A-bomb, using _both _atomic fission and atomic fusion. Atomic fission causes the atomic nucleus to split, and atomic fusion combines the atomic nuclei. With the two separate chambers, an explosion and an implosion are possible at the nearly same time, creating the highest probability for disaster ever possible," Cammie reads in a tone slightly above a whisper.

The four spies sat so still it would seem that they were frozen in time right where they were sitting. Finally, Grant let out a low whistle and Bex hissed, "Shit," under her breath. Zach sat with his fists clenched, and his eyes staring but unseeing. Cammie's eyes just flicked back and forth across the screen, no knowing what to do next. It was like she had just been blind-sided by a subway. Or, more accurately, a nuclear bomb.

"Maybe you shouldn't see any more of this," Zach recommends softly. Cammie flinches when his knuckle gently brushes against her bare arm.

"What do you mean?" she replies.

"Well… it may be dangerous for you and Bex to know too much," Zach answers.

_"The more cynical you become,  
the better off you'll be."_  
**- Matt LeBlanc**

"What do you mean?" Cammie repeats.

"I just think Grant and I should be the only ones looking at this. I mean, we'll just search through everything to try to see if there's any information on who took the disk. If we find anything important, we'll tell you. I swear," Zach promises.

"Uh, _no_," Bex snaps. "How do we know you'll tell us? We deserve to know just as much as you, Mr. Goode, and you seem to _know _every single thing already."

"I _don't_ know everything. You'll just have to trust me. The less of us who know things about our enemies, the better. What would happen if one of us was somehow captured? Like I said, the less we know, the better," he says.

Bex and Cammie look at each other with their eyebrows raised like, _What do you think? _Bex shrugs and Cammie looks at Zach. She almost wanted to turn away from him; it seemed as if his emerald eyes were burning holes through her own. "As long as we can sit on the couch. We won't read what's on the laptop, we just want to watch what you're doing. And you have to tell us once you find anything on anybody who may be working with Mr. or Mrs. Hemlock," Cammie orders. "Deal?"

"Deal," Zach answers without a beat. He holds out his hand and Cammie shakes it, without breaking his unblinking gaze. He gives her a small smirk and she turns away from him, withdrawing her hand.

Cammie stands up and sits on the couch. Bex stands up and walks out of the room, only to return with a few pastel-colored fleece blankets. She sits down by her friend and they wrap themselves in the warm blankets while Zach and Grant huddle around the computer and get to work.

One hour and two cups of mint tea (the only kind of tea Grant had in his cabinets) later, Bex was already asleep. She was twisted in an unnatural position with one foot over the armrest, one foot over the headrest, her butt hanging precariously off the couch, one arm flopped over her forehead, and the other arm hugging Cammie's shin.

A few minutes ago, Zach had murmured a bit to Grant, and they both looked at the 'sleeping' girls. Cammie had really pretended to be sleeping by evening her breath and peeking out from her eyelashes, though no matter how hard she strained her ears, she couldn't hear what the guys were saying. Grant had reached over and turned off all the lights in the apartment so that the only light came from the glowing computer screen.

Now, Cammie's eyelids were becoming ridiculously heavy. She didn't know whether it was the mint tea, the late hour at night, the mesmerizing blue glow of the laptop, or a combination of all those. She didn't want to go to sleep, though, not yet. Not when Grant and Zach were still searching through the graphs, blueprints, and instructions on the flash-drive.

Eventually, Cammie couldn't stay awake any longer. She finally went to sleep with her head resting on the armrest of Grant's couch and her best friend drooling on her foot. She dreamed of Zach and Grant finding the names of the people working with Mr. and Mrs. Hemlock on the computer chip.

_"Espionage, for the most part, involves finding a person  
who knows something or has something  
that you can induce them secretly to give to you.  
That almost always involves a betrayal of trust."_  
**- Aldrich Ames**

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(**Author's Note: Sorry it took me a while. Stupid biology report about chemistry and lab reports and crap. I can't wait for later on in the story!!! So I have to hurry up and write the rest of the in-between stuff. Ugh. Might take me a bit, though. I have to wrap everything up before they can start fighting bad guys.)**


	8. I Think You're Enjoying This

Cammie woke up disoriented, which is a bad thing to be if you're a spy. Her surroundings finally came into focus a few seconds later, and she realized she was still on Grant's couch. The only problem was that her feet were over the end of the armrest and her head was on somebody's stomach… Zach's stomach. He was slouched against the opposite armrest and was staring down at her. His piercing green eyes appeared to be upside-down to her, however, but they were still mesmerizing.

Cammie struggles to sit up in her morning grogginess, and a killer head-rush greets her once she's in sitting position. She clings to the sides of her head as she unconsciously rocks back and forth, dizzy from the sudden foggy spots in her vision and the pounding of blood in her head. When the feeling passes, she looks at Zach.

"What are you doing here? Where's Bex?" she asks.

"When Grant and I finally finished last night, he carried Bex to the guest room because she wouldn't wake up. Grant went to his own bedroom, I'm guessing, and I fell asleep on the couch with you because I didn't quite feel like sleeping on the floor. Was that okay I did that?" he asks.

"What? Oh… uh, yeah. You're fine," Cammie stutters, running a hand through her hair, which was still a bit curly from last night's party. She had a tiny grin on her face, because the fact that Grant carried Bex to the guest bed amused her. It was obvious Bex had just pretended to be asleep so Grant would carry her, because nothing got past Bex, even when she was sleeping. She was even a lighter sleeper than uber-paranoid Liz.

Cammie lets out a massive yawn, which she tried to hide with both her hands. "What time is it?" she asks.

Zach cranes his neck backwards to check the digital clock on the microwave in the kitchen. While he does this, Cammie can't help but check out the sliver of tanned abs between the hem of his white shirt and his black plaid boxers. Cammie does a double-take. _Boxers?! Only boxers?_ And she was practically sleeping on him for most of the night… or, at least, her head was. "Almost noon," Zach replies, turning back to Cammie. Her eyes snap back to his face and away from his torso.

"Did you and Grant find anything? Before you went to sleep last night?"

Zach shrugs and scratches the back of his head with his hand. "Uh… yeah. We did. Ironic enough, their names are Mr. and Mrs. Smith," Zach answers, raising his eyebrows.

Cammie grins. "I love that movie," she admits, "Then again… that name is pretty common. But what about them? Are you sure they're working for Mr. and Mrs. Hemlock?"

"Definitely. The computer chip contained a whole list of people involved. Mr. and Mrs. Smith's names were highlighted, though, so they're probably the ones we should focus on the most. I sent a copy of the list to Joe, for good measure," Zach explains.

"Alright." Cammie shifted on the couch, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders. Her half-curly, half-matted hair spilled across the lemon-yellow blanket and she yawns once more. "How long are we allowed to sleep until we have to get up again?" she asks.

"I guess we could sleep until about seven this evening," Zach replies, "We have another party tonight at eight at Mr. and Mrs. Smith's mansion. When we first scheduled the party, we hadn't known they were our suspects. So this is rather… fortunate."

"Another party?" Cammie groans.

Zach holds out his arms on both sides and jokes, "Welcome to the life of the rich and fabulous." He folds his hands behind his head and looks at Cammie with intent. His sudden interest in her made her feel awkward and exposed… much _un_like a chameleon.

"What?" she asks self-consciously, running a hand through her nearly fully-grown bangs.

"I was just thinking. Maybe we should pretend to have a fight so we could split up at this party. I could keep the people busy downstairs and you could search the other floors for anything suspicious. Bex could go with you for safety, of course," Zach suggests.

"Sure," Cammie answers. She opens her mouth to say something else, but Grant stomps down the hallway with major bed-head and grumbling about his stomach.

"I'm so _hungryyy_," he complains, stumbling into the kitchen and opening the fridge. Grant lets out a huge sigh, and Zach looks at Cammie and winks. She laughs, hoping Zach was winking at her because of how immature Grant was being and not for some other reason.

Bex shuffles down the hallway a few minutes later with a hot pink blanket wrapped around her. Even after an uncomfortable night's sleep, her friend was still gorgeous without even trying. "Morning, Bex," Cammie greets.

Bex collapses face-down across the arms of the overstuffed chair in the corner of the living room and mumbles something unintelligible.

"Hey, Grant, get me something too, will ya?" Zach calls to the kitchen, where Grant was struggling to shake the toaster upside-down, since it appeared that the toast was stuck. Grant turns around and scowls at Zach, who was making fun of his misfortune.

"Get your own toast, douchebag," Grant snaps, causing Zach to burst out laughing.

Suddenly, there's a knock on the apartment door and Cammie jumps off the couch. She runs into the kitchen with Bex right behind her. Bex nudges Cammie out of the way and peeks through the peephole. "It's Liz!" Bex exclaims, fumbling to unlock the door.

"Liz!" Cammie exclaims, hugging her friend once Bex opened the door.

"Cammie! Bex!" Liz replies, hugging them both. "I haven't seen you guys since… that one mission, like, three years ago."

"Yeah… it's kinda depressing, really, how we all lost touch like that," Bex admits with a shameful look on her face.

"But we talked to each other practically every day on Facebook. And we all texted each other whenever something important happened," Cammie reminds them. The three girls walk back into the kitchen and begin talking about Gallagher Academy as if they hadn't been separated for the last three years.

"Ohmygosh, has anybody seen Mr. Solomon? I remember when he was a new teacher at first and everybody was obsessing about him," Liz blurts.

"He wasn't even your teacher," Bex protests.

"Yeah, but I saw him in the cafeteria every day! You guys are so lucky you got to see him without a shirt when you all had the underwater weapon unit," Liz gushes.

Cammie clears her throat loudly and tips her head in the direction of Grant and Zach, who were looking at them with disgust from the living room.

"What?! He's hot!" Liz exclaims, causing Bex and Cammie to double over in a fit of giggles.

"He was your _teacher_," Grant answers, a shudder creeping up his spine. Liz just waved off his comment like a pesky fly. The apartment door was knocked on again, and Grant got off the couch to answer the door, followed by Zach. "That's probably Jonas."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot to ask you guys. Do you know who this Jonas guy is? I mean, I researched all I could about this mission once Zach sent me the file. I got information on Zach and Grant, since I wanted to see who I'd be working with, but when I searched Jonas' name, there was only one site. I tried to open it, but it was blocked by a code, and no matter how long I worked on it… I _could. Not. Crack. It_," Liz says the last part with her nails digging into the skin of Cammie's wrist, as if it were the scariest thing ever imagined.

"That's because Jonas is the best computer whiz you'll ever meet," Grant answers.

"I resent that," Liz pouts indignantly.

Zach opens the apartment door and in walks a tall guy with thick black hair. He was noticeably skinnier than Zach and Grant, but still had a sizeable amount of muscle on him. His eyes were a deep brown, rimmed by rectangular black glasses. The three guys greeted each other with a few shoulder pats and low-pitched hellos.

"Hey, I'm Jonas," he announced to the three wary girls in the corner of the kitchen.

"That's Cammie, that's Bex, and that's Liz," Zach points them out with his hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Nice to meet you," Liz says curtly, holding her hand out for a handshake. When he met her grip, her fingers went white squeezing his hand so hard. But Jonas' expression didn't waver. "I understand we'll be working together a lot, since we both seem to be the 'computer geeks' around here."

"I wouldn't mind that one bit," Jonas replies smoothly. Then, as if as an afterthought, he added, "Liz."

A cellphone buzzed against the leather couch, the sound emanating throughout the room. Zach jogs over and answers it, mouthing, "Solomon," to the rest of the spies in the kitchen.

There was an awkward silence as they all tried to listen in on the conversation, although Zach spoke in such a hushed tone they could barely hear him. Finally, he tossed his cellphone on the couch and scanned all five spies. "Mr. and Mrs. Hemlock are on their way to tell Mr. and Mrs. Smith about me and Cammie. We have to stop them before they get there," Zach announces.

_"I know you're deepest, secret fear. _  
_I know everything; everything you do, everywhere you go, everyone you know. _  
_I know your deepest, secret fear. _  
_I'm a spy. I can see what you do, and I know."_  
**- The Spy by The Doors**

"They're on their way? Like, right now?" Liz asks.

"Yeah. Cammie and I will go together, you and Jonas will go together, and Grant and Bex can search too. We'll keep in touch by cellphones; I trust you girls all have each other's numbers," Zach suggests.

"Yep," Bex chirps.

"Good. Then let's get going. We have no time to waste," Zach orders. All six of them run out of the kitchen and down the hallway to their respective bedrooms. Liz was already completely dressed, but she followed Bex and Cammie into the guest room anyway.

Bex quickly sorts through her clothes and tosses Cammie a complete outfit. "You can borrow these since you don't have your own clothes," she offers.

Cammie quickly pulls on the gray short-shorts, purple tube top, and thin white quarter-sleeve cardigan Bex gave her. Liz hands her gold bangles, gold hoop earrings, and a thin heart locket that she had scoured for in Bex's jewelry bag. Cammie sneaks a peek of purple metallic flats in Bex's suitcase, and puts those on too. In the mirror, her hair was still curly enough from last night that it looked fine.

"Let's go!" Bex exclaims, pulling on a navy V-neck shirt over a white cami and rushing out the door. The girls almost collide with the guys, who were coming out of Grant's bedroom.

"We can take the Lamborghini around town and see if we can find their car," Zach tells Cammie, pulling her along hand-in-hand, "But I bet Mr. and Mrs. Hemlock are smart enough not to use the same car… so we'll have to find them some other way."

They were already out of the apartment and crossing the road to get to the Lamborghini parked in the alley. "Does Mr. or Mrs. Hemlock have a job somewhere in Miami?" Cammie asks, climbing into the passenger seat and not bothering to put on a seat belt; they may have to quick jump out of the car at any second.

"Yeah, he works at an accounting firm a few blocks away from here," he muses, spinning the wheel to presumably drive in the direction of the firm. On the curb by the apartment building, Cammie saw Liz and Jonas hailing a taxi, and Grant and Bex were speed-walking down the sidewalk towards downtown.

"We'll check there first," Cammie says. She didn't want to think about what would happen if Mr. or Mrs. Hemlock wasn't there… _Where else would they check? _After all, Miami was a huge city, and they could be anywhere.

Zach quickly parallel-parks the car along the curb in front of a huge skyscraper. They scramble out of the car and into the building to the front desk. "What floor is Mr. Hemlock's office at?" Cammie asks politely. Zach puts his hand on her lower back, like any young faithful husband protective of his wife would.

"The fifth floor," the secretary answers, reading glasses low on her nose, "But may I ask if you have an appointment?"

"Actually, we don't. But we're long family friends of Mr. Hemlock, and we know he'd be fine with seeing us. If he's not there, we'll just wait in the hallway. We planned out we'd be seeing him sometime, so he might be here soon," Zach butts in.

The secretary glares at him skeptically.

"Is there a problem?" Cammie asks, "He doesn't have any clients in front of us, does he?"

"Well, no. Actually, he called in for a sick day, so I don't know about you two even getting to see him."

"We talked to him on the phone just this morning," Zach comments, looking at Cammie with an overly-skeptical look on his face. Cammie laughs in her head at how far he was going to keep this lie. "He sounded perfectly fine. He'll probably be here soon. So, if you would, what number is his office?"

"Number 534, but don't get your hopes up," the secretary scowls.

"Thank you!" Cammie says graciously, except Zach was already pulling her towards the elevator. They ride up to the fifth floor and down the hallway to office number 534, where all the lights were off. "Of course he would have a sick day. He obviously had other plans," Cammie declares bitterly.

"Then we'll just have to lure him here," Zach proposes, plucking a bobby pin from Cammie's head. A lock of mousy brown hair falls into her face and she brushes it away. He looks up and down the empty hallway before picking the lock on the office door and stepping into the darkness.

Cammie closes the door behind them and takes her bobby pin back from Zach, slipping it into her hair. "I didn't know you even knew how to use a bobby pin," she deliberates.

"Spy," he replies, pointing to himself and smirking.

Cammie rolls her eyes and with a playful grin adds, "No duh."

Zach sits down at Mr. Hemlock's desk and waves the computer mouse around until the computer screen glowed to life. Cammie put her hand on the desk and leaned next to him, watching as he opened and closed several files on the computer desktop. "What are you doing?" she asks.

"Finding this," Zach replies, pointing to a cell number in a list of other phone numbers. Next to the cellphone number was Mr. Hemlock's name, and Zach was already digging out his phone and dialing the number.

"What are you going to say?" Cammie asks in a whisper, except Zach doesn't answer her. The office is silent except for their unified breathing. The computer screen set off a blue-ish glow in the otherwise dark office, since they hadn't turned on any lights so as to not alert anybody's attention.

Zach's cellphone emits a low ringing sound through the speaker, and finally Mr. Hemlock answers, "Hello?"

"Where are you?" Zach blurts.

"Pardon? Who is this?" Mr. Hemlock replies. The office was so silent that Cammie could hear Mr. Hemlock's responses through Zach's speaker on his phone.

"This is Mr. Goode. Now I believe you didn't answer my question. Where are you?"

"I'm… in my office. At work," Mr. Hemlock answers. Clearly he didn't want them to know he was on his way to tell Mr. and Mrs. Smith about them, and clearly he also thought they had no idea where his office was, otherwise he wouldn't be sharing that valuable information.

"No, you're not," Zach says blatantly.

"Yes, I am," Mr. Hemlock insists.

"No, you're not," Zach repeats. "If you were, then we'd be having this conversation face-to-face." He hangs up before getting Mr. Hemlock's reply and smirks.

"I think you're enjoying this much more than you should," Cammie comments.

"At least he'll be here soon," Zach says confidently, exiting out of the file and turning off the computer monitor. He reaches over and wraps his hand around Cammie's wrist. "Now let's hide."

_"It may look to the untrained eye like I'm sitting on my ass all day. _  
_But I'm biding my time until I can take you on. I will prevail, I will not fail. _  
_Cause I spy. I've got your numbers, taken notes, and know the way your mind works. _  
_You never let masks slip, you never admit to it, you're never hurried. Oh no. Cause I spy."_  
**- I Spy by Pulp**

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(Author's Note: Omg, I suck. Soooo sorry I haven't updated in, like, forever. I had major writer's block, since I couldn't figure out what to write before the actual suspenseful part of the story began. But it's all good now. I know exactly what to write after this. So expect a new chapter soon.)


	9. The Coast Is Clear

By now, Cammie and Zach have been smashed flat against the wall in the corner, by the office door. "Remember the plan?" Zach whispers, turning his head so his temple was flat against the wall to face her.

Cammie starts breathing through her mouth to avoid the scent of his intoxicating spearmint gum in such a cramped place. "Yeah," she whisper-replies, "But I still don't see why you need a stapler." She glances down at the black stapler gripped in Zach's palm.

"Do _you _see any other weapons in here?" he retorts with a joking grin. It's true; the office was surprisingly unfurnished, and there weren't even any scissors in the desk. Kindof grotesque to think about, but necessary none the less.

Suddenly, footsteps are heard coming down the hall. Cammie nudges Zach's hip with her own, and they share a wide-eyed glance with each other. "Ready?" he mouthes in silence. She nods, aware of her role in the attack.

A key rustles in the lock, and the door opens. Right as Mr. Hemlock's foot enters the office, he snaps the light on. As the light snaps on, Zach flings his broad arms around Mr. Hemlock's neck and throws him to the floor. Cammie, meanwhile, flicks the office lights off and shuts the door as quietly as possible, locking it too.

Zach pins Mr. Hemlock underneath his heavy weight, and punched him in the face with the stapler, once, twice, again and again. The end of the stapler cut his skin, broke his nose, and left bruises everywhere. The older man flailed under Zach, except he wasn't a challenge for the young spy's strength.

Cammie couldn't take the sight of it anymore, and she squeezed her eyes shut. She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, pressing her eyeballs into the back of her eye sockets until bright colors started to appear in her vision. Mr. Hemlock groaned loud enough to bring attention to them, except the majority of the offices had been closed for the weekend.

Cammie's eyes couldn't take the pressure anymore, so she let her hands ease up on the pressure. By mistake, her eyelids open a sliver and she sees the final blow to end Mr. Hemlock's life. Zach raises the stapler and brings it down hard on Mr. Hemlock's temple. Cut off in mid-moan, Mr. Hemlock's body goes limp.

She squeezes her eyes shut again, and presses her hands against her eyelids, desperate to erase that last memory. Cammie locks her knees, which was probably a bad decision on her part. Her legs begin to crumple, bringing her down, but Zach gets there in time to wrap his arms around her.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," he murmurs in her ear. Cammie wasn't aware she was trembling until she was held firmly against Zach's chest and she could feel her own bodily vibrations. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she answers, although she wasn't so sure. Cammie has had her fair share of death. Her father's mysterious probable-death, her Aunt Abby's almost-death from sophomore year, and the threats of Mr. Solomon in Co-Ops that 'some spies never come home.' Except she had never witnessed a _murder_ before, and this was much different. Neither had she ever killed anyone before. Sure, she could slap a Napotene patch on them and knock somebody out, or punch them until they passed out, or anything of the sort. But Cammie wasn't a killing person.

"You know it was necessary, right? We couldn't just convince him to keep quiet. He'd have spilled our cover, killing you, and killing me. Not to mention the fact of how many people would have been killed if his nuclear weapon plan is carried out," Zach says gently. Cammie's mind reeled. What he said was true, but she couldn't ignore the fact that what Zach did almost _scared _her. He had killed Mr. Hemlock without a second thought, and he did it so quickly and violently that it was shocking.

Zach reaches up and strokes her hair with his hand. When he does, Cammie's body involuntarily stiffens, and Zach drops his hand. As if he was reading her mind, Zach looks down at her with a concerned expression. "You're not… scaredof me, are you?" he asks. Cammie looks up at him and bites her lip. Apparently her silence was enough of an answer.

_"Don't look at me with those eyes. _  
_Please don't hint that you're capable of lies."_  
**- First Date by Blink 182**

"I'm sorry if I scared you. I didn't mean to. I had to kill him quickly, and I hope you know that. I'd never do that for any other reason than that one. I mean, it would ruin the mission if we couldn't trust each other anymore," Zach explains.

Cammie takes a deep breath and looks at Mr. Hemlock's still body on the carpet. There was a little bit of blood trickling from his mouth and nose, and his eyes were glazed over. She looks into Zach's eyes and breathes, "Right now… you seem to be one of the only people I _can _trust."

His eyes glint and he smiles a small smirk. "Good. Now let's get out of here. We still need to get Mrs. Hemlock," Zach reminds her. He takes her hand and they walk out of the office and down the hallway as casually as possible.

They leave the building and climb into the Lamborghini. Zach merges into traffic and answers his cellphone, which had started buzzing in his pocket. "Jonas, did you find Mrs. Hemlock?" he asks, pressing the speakerphone button on the keypad.

"Yeah… how'd you know it was her and not Mr. Hemlock?" Jonas replies warily.

"We took care of him already," Zach answers nonchalantly. "So, about Mrs. Hemlock?"

"She's right across the street walking on the sidewalk. What am I supposed to do? I can't confront her right in the middle of all this pedestrian traffic!" Jonas complains.

"Well, just--"

"Oh, wait! Now she's going into a little café. Liz and I are on our way in," he reports.

"Good," Zach says, "Just find a way to get her on her own. I can't help you any more than that. Which café are you at? Cammie and I will meet you there." Cammie sees him look at her out of the corner of his eye in her peripheral vision, but she keeps her eyes on the screen of her own cellphone. Cammie was texting Bex, telling her that Mr. Hemlock was killed and Jonas and Liz were already taking care of Mrs. Hemlock.

"The Hard Rock Café," Jonas states. Cammie texts the information to Bex and Zach nods.

"On our way," he says simply and hangs up.

He spins the wheel and turns onto a side street that opens up onto a fairly busy street. Cammie points out a parking meter and they park in front of it. Zach slips in a few coins while Cammie goes inside the café. She wasn't aware how close they already were to the café.

"Cam," Liz hisses, dashing up to her friend in the restaurant's dim lighting and grabbing her arm, "Mrs. Hemlock went to the bathroom and I kinda slapped a napotene patch on her shin from under the stall door. She's out cold and, luckily, she hadn't pulled down her pants yet when she passed out. But now I don't know how to get her out without creating a scene."

By then, Zach had walked up and heard the last bit of what Liz said, and Jonas soon appeared too. "You need a distraction? I can distract everybody while Jonas takes the Lamborghini around back and Cammie and Liz carries Mrs. Hemlock through the back door," Zach suggests, handing the keys to Jonas.

"Sure," Liz quickly agrees, pulling Cammie towards the bathroom. She leads her to the handicapped stall at the very end of the empty bathroom. Liz slides through the space under the locked door and Cammie follows her. Mrs. Hemlock was sitting on the toilet seat with her tan capris still firmly attached to her hips, a Napotene patch on her shin, and her forehead was slumped against the gray tile wall.

"Here, take her arm," Cammie orders, getting on one side of Mrs. Hemlock and hoisting her up. Liz gets on the other side and supports her other arm. Mrs. Hemlock's weight was like deadweight, but Liz and Cammie were used to that. "What if someone walks in?"

"We'll pretend she's our friend who has fainting problems and, oh snap, she just fainted again," Liz offers off the top of her head. "Just kidding. Kinda. But if Zach keeps distracting everybody, things should go just as planned."

Cammie opens the bathroom door a crack and peeks out. Waiters and waitresses were running towards the stage, where they were currently hosting a karaoke night with one hour left. Somebody was singing terribly, though Cammie couldn't make out the tune of the song. "The coast is clear," Cammie whispers.

Liz snorts and rolls her eyes good-naturedly. "That line is so cliché," she comments.

"Whatever! Let's just get going," Cammie retorts. They hustle out of the bathroom and towards the back of the restaurant to the door that employees exit out of for their smoking break. Luckily, no employees were around because they were all too busy trying to drag somebody off the stage and quit singing, though Cammie couldn't tell who because of all the crowds.

Liz and Cammie drag Mrs. Hemlock outside to the alley, where Jonas was waiting in the Lamborghini. They struggle for a few minutes until, finally, Mrs. Hemlock is propped up in one of the cramped backseats. Liz goes around front and climbs into the passenger's seat, next to Jonas. Meanwhile, Cammie slides into the backseat next to Mrs. Hemlock who was, luckily, still unconscious.

Suddenly, Bex and Grant appear in the alley in front of the Lamborghini. Bex opens the door to the backseat and says, "Thank goodness you're here. We searched inside, but we couldn't find you or Mrs. Hemlock."

Zach walks out the employee door and squeezes past Bex, who was half-blocking the door to the backseat. He sits next to Cammie and glances at Mrs. Hemlock, who was buckled into her seat. He chuckles, and Grant punches him in the shoulder.

"Hey, man, you gonna let me and Bex in too, or are you just going to sit there?" Grant asks sarcastically.

"Oh, right," Zach replies, nodding at Cammie, "Scoot over and sit in my lap."

"What?"

"Okay, fine, would you rather sit in my lap or Mrs. Hemlock's lap? Because there isn't enough room for all of us to have our own seat," Zach explains slowly, like talking to a second-grader.

"Fine," Cammie grumbles, a little pissed at him for talking to her like that. She hefts herself up, crouching in the cramped space, while Zach shifts underneath her. She cautiously sits in his lap and Grant slides in next to Zach, patting his lap for Bex to sit. Bex climbs in next, sits on Grant's lap, and shuts the car door behind her.

Jonas starts driving, and Grant starts snickering. "What the heck?" Zach asks. He nudges Cammie's rigid back with his shoulder, silently urging her to relax. She leans back against his chest and looks out the window.

"You suck at singing so bad," Grant answers with a final chuckle.

"That was _you _singing?" Liz asks from the front seat.

"Yeah…," Zach says with a bit of hesitation in his voice. "It was the only way I could think of on such short notice for me to create a distraction for everyone in the café to pay attention, by singing--"

"Jizz In My Pants!" Grant crows so suddenly he makes Bex cringe in his lap, starting up another fit of laughter.

"You sang that?" Cammie exclaims, twisting around to look at Zach.

"Well--," he begins, but Grant cuts him off.

"Yeah, dude, why the hell did you sing that?" Grant asks.

"I was gonna freaking answer before you interrupted me," Zach snaps. "Anyway, I needed to sing something inappropriate enough so the employees would freak out and try to get me off the stage, and they'd get away from the back door so Cammie and Liz could get Mrs. Hemlock out without being seen. What's really weird, though, is that the karaoke guy even had the song in the CD collection if I wasn't supposed to sing it."

Jonas laughs and hits his palm on the steering wheel. "That's hilarious!" he exclaims.

Suddenly, Cammie feels something brush against the her upper thigh, just below her butt. "Zach!" she shrieks, sitting up straight again.

"What?"

Cammie turns her head to look down at his lap, but his hands weren't anywhere near there. Instead, Mrs. Hemlock's elbow was by his hip, since she had slouched down a bit during the ride. "Uh… guys? We better get to Grant's apartment a bit faster. I think the Napotene patch on Mrs. Hemlock is starting to wear off," she suggests. Jonas floors it and they zoom off down the highway.

_"Misery is manifold. _  
_The wretchedness of the earth is multiform."_  
**- Matt LeBlanc**

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(Author's Note: Okay, so that was a bit of Zammie. At the end of the party at Mr. and Mrs. Smith's house, there will definitely be a lot of Zammie. Lol. Just wanted to let you guys know, for something to look forward to.)


	10. That's Disclosed Information

Mrs. Hemlock woke from her unconsciousness about two hours ago. When she first woke up and found herself tied to a metal bar stool with a layer of rope and a layer of duct tape, she made enough noise to wake the dead. To combat that drawback, Cammie covered her mouth with duct tape while Bex threatened to kill her right then and there if she didn't "shut her bloody mouth."

Now, Mrs. Hemlock had the duct tape peeled off her mouth and a truth ring on both middle fingers. Jonas and Liz were pouring themselves over a clipboard, writing down a list of questions to ask her and leaving space to record her answers.

They were in the guest room, which had been cleared of all Bex's stuff and replaced with spy equipment that had been salvaged from all their suitcases. Zach pulls Cammie out of the room and asks, "Should we go back to the hotel room? The party starts in an hour."

"Yeah, let's go," Cammie agrees and they leave the apartment. While they were going down the elevator, though, she asks, "What about Mrs. Hemlock while we're gone? Like, at the party?"

"I'm guessing Liz and Jonas would be able to keep her from… escaping while we're at the party. Bex and Grant will still come with us, though," Zach answers. They leave the hotel and walk to the Lamborghini, which was once again parked in the alley.

"And are we doing the fight thing between our covers?" Cammie asks.

"Yeah, it'll give us an excuse to split up at the party," Zach explains, navigating the car onto the highway and towards the hotel. "So I was thinking about having either having an argument on the way in, then you could leave all annoyed-like. Or, we can just arrive in separate cars and glare at each other on the way in. Whichever you want to do."

"I think the argument on the way into the mansion would be believable, except we shouldn't make too big of a scene. What should we be arguing about, though?"

"Right. Maybe it might be easier to just pretend to be mad at each other at the party," Zach debates, pulling the Lamborghini into the hotel parking lot.

"Sure," Cammie agrees. They enter the hotel and ride the elevator up to their floor. She pulls out her room card and they step into the dark room, turning on the lights.

She immediately goes to her walk-in closet, where she begins heating up her straightening iron and getting out her makeup. After applying foundation, blush, eye liner, mascara, and some smokey eye shadow, Zach was already walking into the closet with a sleek tuxedo on.

Cammie looks up and sees him in the mirror, so she turns around. He holds out his right arm and pulls her towards him in a hug. She hears his heartbeat in his chest, and something cold touches her shoulder blade. Cammie realizes the coldness is the metal wedding ring on his finger. He pulls away and announces, "I'm going back to Grant's. I'll see you at the party. Here's money for a cab."

He take a ten dollar bill from his pocket and holds it out for Cammie. She waves it away. "I have my own money," she denies.

"I insist," Zach persists, holding the money closer to her. She reluctantly takes the money and puts it on the counter. He nods and says, "See you." Zach turns and leaves the walk-in closet, and the apartment door shuts behind him.

_"My only regret is that I have_  
_but one life to lose for my country."_  
**- Nathan Hale**

Cammie gets back to her routine, and she finishes straightening her hair until it was pin-straight. She strips out of all her clothes and steps into a strapless black dress. She zips the zipper up her side, and puts on strappy black heels to complete the look. Cammie stands straight and rotates in front of the mirror.

The black dress hugged her barely-there curves, and the heels added a few inches to her average height. Below the chest, the black dress was ruched across her waist. The ruching ended right at her hips, where the hem of the dress created vertical folds from being pulled taut against her thighs, just a few inches below her butt.

Cammie unplugs her straightening iron, and sticks Zach's money into her strapless bra for safekeeping. She decides to leave her hotel key in the hotel room, since she would just meet Zach after the party and he'd have his key. She also takes off her lie-detector ring and puts it on the counter. Cammie turns off all the lights in the suite and reaches her hand for the doorknob.

Then she freezes, a creaking sound coming from behind her.

Cammie spins around and roundhouse-kicks a man in the head. She winces at the grotesque feel of her stiletto heel slicing into skin. Cammie flips on the nearest lightswitch for an advantage, and immediately sees two figures dressed in black.

She runs towards the nearest one and ducks on the ground to dodge a punch. While squatting on the ground, she whips out her leg and knocks the person to the ground. As Cammie stands up and turns around to begin fighting off the person still standing, her feet are knocked out from underneath her. Her head and back hits the ground, and her breath is knocked out of her. The familiar feeling of a Napotene patch being slapped on her arm is the last sensation she feels before everything turns black.

When Cammie wakes up, she's in an all-concrete room with no windows and a single door. A bare lightbulb hangs from the ceiling, the harsh white light showing dust particles free-floating in the air. She looks down to see herself tied to a chair with duct tape. Cammie's head cranes around to see where the tape ends to begin picking at it to escape, but before she can locate it, somebody barges into the room.

"Ah, Cammie Morgan," the man says with an air of arrogance. "You killed Mr. Hemlock, am I correct?"

"No," Cammie replies calmly, her face a blank slate of information. A cocky smirk was on her face, even though she had a killer headache from being knocked out and cocky was the last thing she was feeling. But it would be best to annoy your enemy, and to always seem one step ahead.

"Well, my information says you did," he retorts. He was bald, with a white mustache and overly-tanned skin.

"Your information is wrong," Cammie insists. It wasn't a complete lie; Zach was the one to kill Mr. Hemlock, not her. But of course she wouldn't say that. "Oh is it?"

"It is."

They have a stare-down with each other until the man finally blinks. "Where are we? What's your name?" Cammie asks.

"I'm not able to disclose that information," he answers with a smirk on his face that matched her own.

"Oh are you?" Cammie retorts, imitating his previous question.

"I'm not," he insists. "Now, are going to have to do this the difficult way, or the easy way?"

"Difficult is my middle name."

"Strange, I thought it was Ann," the man replies. Cammie's smirk vanishes. That line was one of the very first things Zach said to her when they first met. Something had happened to Zach, and she didn't know what.

"What did you do to him?" she asks in a whisper. The man's smirk only grows wider, and Cammie shrieks, "What did you do to him?!"

"Nothing. Yet," he finally answers. "And nothing _will _happen to him, if only you cooperate with us. Now, are we going to have to do this the easy way, or the hard way?"

Cammie purses her lips, signaling she wouldn't tell no matter what. It was the only thing a loyal spy could do, even if it meant sacrificing herself or someone she loved. But no matter what, she couldn't forgo the mission for her safety.

"Fine, then. Sam, come hook her up!" the bald man shouts out the door. A shorter, bulkier guy walks through the door with wires in his hands. At first, Cammie gets a jolt of fear. _Electric chair?_, she momentarily thinks. But then she recognizes the familiar wires of a polygraph detector, and she lets out a bark of laughter.

"A lie-detector? _That's _what you mean by 'the hard way'?" Cammie asks. Sam comes over and starts taping wires to her wrists, and she doesn't resist. In Co-Ops, they had two entire units on the polygraph machine, and she knew a sure-fire way to beat it. She also knew that polygraph machines weren't even correct. They only measured the amount of nervousness, not the actual lie, and it was mainly used just to threaten the suspect into telling the truth. Cammie took a few deep breaths and forced herself to stay calm.

"Laugh all you want, Miss Morgan. But with this machine, we'll be able to get every single secret out of that pretty little head of yours," the bald man boasts. He drags a simple wooden chair into the room and sits down with the gray polygraph machine at his feet. Sam leaves the room and shuts the door behind him.

Cammie mentally rolls her eyes and clenches her butt-cheeks together. As silly as it sounded, that was the only way to beat a lie-detector test. Since polygraph machines measure the amount of nervousness, they measure muscle tension, since humans naturally tense their muscles when they're nervous. And the largest muscle in the body is the butt. So if you tense your butt muscles for the duration of the test, the machine won't monitor any clenching or unclenching that would detect "lying."

"First question," the man begins, "Have you known Mr. Goode for a long time?"

"What if I don't even know who Mr. Goode is?" Cammie replies, playing stupid.

"Then you would say no," he snaps, "Now, yes or no answers only, please. Answer the question."

"No."

"Are you and Mr. Goode close, as in currently in a relationship?"

"No! What the hell? I already said I didn't know him," Cammie retorts.

"Yes or no answers, please," he warns, "Now what about your--"

His interrogation is cut short as the door to the room slams open. Sam was unconscious on the floor. In all her shock, Cammie accidentally stops clenching her butt. "Zach!" she exclaims.

_"Happiness is a warm gun."_  
**- The Beatles**

* * *

**(Author's Note: Aw, darn. Short chapter, and not much Zammie. Trust me, there's a big Zammie scene coming up. Maybe not the next chapter... but really, really soon. It's going to be awesome. Lol. Especially the ending of this story, but that's in a while. So don't worry about that. And... I'll shut up now. Haha.)**


	11. In A Restricted Area

The man who was interrogating Cammie swiftly stood up from his chair to defend himself from Zach's attack, but he was too late. Zach had a small black pistol in his hand and shot a bullet clear into the man's chest. Zach looks out the door behind him, and seeing nobody was coming, he goes over to Cammie who was still duct taped to the chair.

"How much did he get out of you?" Zach asks, his tone all business. He kneels on the ground and gently picks the taped-on wires off her wrists.

"Not much. He only asked if I killed Mr. Hemlock, if I knew you, and if we were actually dating," Cammie informs him.

Zach had finished peeling the wires off her skin and was now looking for the end of the roll of duct tape wrapped around her. His fingers finally start picking at the duct tape behind her back. "And… what did you say?" Zach asks.

"Nothing! I swear. I either gave him wrong information or I totally lied," Cammie insists. Zach starts unwinding the duct tape around and around her chair. It made a disturbing slurp-slash-rip sound as it slowly came off. When she was finally free, Cammie stands up and checks to make sure her dress was unharmed. "Where are we?"

"We're a few miles away from Mr. and Mrs. Smith's mansion."

"How'd you find me?" she asks, genuinely curious.

"When I hugged you in the hotel room, I actually put a tracker on you," Zach answers awkwardly. "I had to, so I'd know where you were in case something… happened."

"Well, it's a good thing you did," Cammie says, taking his hand and pulling him towards the door out of the room, even though she had no idea where it led to. "We should get to the party. Bex and I still need to search the top floor of Mr. and Mrs. Smith's mansion and--"

"I don't think we should go to the mansion. It would be too dangerous. I could just call Bex and Grant and they could meet us back at the apartment," Zach suggests. He leads her up a chilly concrete staircase and down a long hallway.

"Zach, it doesn't matter about our safety," Cammie points out, "We have to see what Mr. and Mrs. Smith know, or else we could be endangering thousands of people."

She could tell Zach was holding his breath as he considered this. Down the hallway, dozens of unconscious bodies were scattered about with Napotene patches pasted somewhere on their skin.

_"A man is not dead until he is forgotten."_  
**- Everett Warren**

They walk up another concrete staircase and exit a solid metal door into a dark alley. Right in front of the door was the parked Lamborghini. The driver's door was still open, like he had gotten out in a hurry. Cammie was amazed the car hadn't been stolen, especially since this was downtown Miami.

"Fine. But if anything happens to you…," Zach warns. He climbs into the driver's seat and Cammie climbs into the passenger seat.

"You mean if anything happens to _either_ of us. We're both in danger, you know. Not just me. I'm not any less vulnerable than you are," she corrects. Zach starts the car but doesn't drive anywhere yet.

"I know, I know," he sighs. "What I meant was that we need to everything together so nothing happens to you. Or me, for that matter."

Cammie shifts uncomfortably in her seat. It was awkward where the subject of their conversation was going, and how the car wasn't going _any_where. They just sat in the alley in silence, except for the quiet rumble of the stalled engine. "What do you mean?" she asks.

"What I mean is that whatever we do, we have to do it together. We have to…"

"Zach, I'm grateful you rescued me just then, but… we? There is no _we_. The only thing we have in common is this mission! And--," Cammie tries to explain.

"Cammie! Listen to me!" Zach snaps. He takes a deep breath, looks out the window next to him, then lets it out in a big rush of air. He turns back to Cammie, his eyes pleading. "I… I…"

"You what?" she asks exasperatedly. His mood swings were becoming too overwhelming. First he was all heroic and serious, then he became reserved and uncomfortable, then he snapped at her, and now…

"Okay, this has nothing to do with my cover," Zach admits, "But… I love you."

Cammie's eyes widen so much she feels as if her eyeballs were about to pop out of her head. Then she regains her cover and tries to act normal again. She stares out the windshield, and when Zach sees that she isn't going to respond, he starts the car and starts driving.

Cammie sits in the silence, picking at her nails because of how awkward it was. Nobody was saying anything, but Zach kept pushing down the gas pedal until the concrete road below them just became a blur. "Zach, slow down!" Cammie exclaims, gripping the arm rests.

Zach shakes his head as if he'd just woken up from a daydream and he looks at the speedometer in surprise. He eased up on the gas pedal just as they turned into a long driveway that wound around a hill, up to a massive mansion on the hilltop.

Cars were parked in the fields all around, and the mansion's first-floor windows were glowing with light. A big white tent sat behind the mansion in the backyard, where check-in desk and valet parking tables were stationed. Zach pulls up next to the tent and stalls the car. They look at each other.

"So, are you going to say anything?" Zach finally asks after a few unbearable seconds of silence.

"I… I don't know what to say," she admits, hand on the door handle, ready to bail. Zach blinks at her, then turns and stares out the windshield. His hands grip the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. "I mean, I need time to think--"

"Just get to the party," he interrupts, still not looking at her. "I'll be in soon. But I don't want to see you. Just get Bex and get it done fast. If anything, I'll see you tonight at Grant's apartment."

"Fine," Cammie replies coldly. She shoves the car door open, steps out, and slams it shut as hard as she could behind her. She knew when she obviously wasn't wanted anymore. She storms up to the check-in desk and says, "Cameron Goode," while looking behind her at Zach's retreating taillights towards the parking lot.

"Cameron Goode…," the attendant repeats while flipping through a pile of papers barely attached to a clipboard, "Alright, you're on the list. Have fun."

"Thanks," she mumbles, and exits the tent towards the front doors of the mansion. Almost immediately after she walks in, Bex grabs her wrist and forces a glass of champagne into her hand.

"Where the hell have you been?" Bex hisses with a smile that looks as if they were just having friendly conversation.

"I was kidnapped out of my hotel room, and some guy with a sidekick named Sam interrogated me. Zach came and rescued me, we argued, then he dropped me off here. He should be here soon, and I don't really want to see him…," Cammie explains in a rush, glancing anxiously at the front door where party guests were still streaming in.

"Okay, let's go to the _bathroom_," Bex says emphatically, meaning they weren't actually going to the bathroom. Bex leads the way through the red-and-gold decorated party room filled with lavishly dressed guests to the marble stairwell leading to the second floor. As they pass the propped-open bathroom door, Bex asks, "So… what was this 'fight' about?"

"It wasn't really a _fight_… we just argued a bit," Cammie stalls.

"Same thing."

Bex leads them to an office door down the hallway, up two more flights of stairs, and around the corner, way out of view from the other guests. Bex steals a bobby pin from Cammie's head to pick the lock, and she can't help but think of Zach. Bex hands the bobby pin back and they step into the pitch-black office. Cammie fixes her hair, turns on the light, and closes the door.

"How do you know we need to search here?" Cammie asks.

"Liz told me the directions to this room over comms while you and Zach were still MIA," Bex explains, pulling back her thick black hair and revealing a comms unit in her ear. "Since apparently she has the blueprints to this whole mansion. Speaking of which… here." Bex hands Cammie a comms unit, which she sticks in her ear.

"Liz says all the info we need is somewhere in this room," Bex continues, trying to pick the lock on a file cabinet with her French-tipped nails. "So… you still didn't answer my question about you and Zach."

Cammie starts rifling through the papers sitting on the big oak desk in the middle of the room, unsure of what they were even supposed to be looking for. "He told me he loved me, and I didn't say anything back since I don't really love him back. At least… I don't think I do. And he kinda just got all pissed at me," Cammie explains.

"Oh my god, Cam," Bex groans, flicking through the files through the files in the filing cabinet she just cracked open. "If Macey were here, she'd die from your obliviousness."

"Sure, Bex," Cammie replies sarcastically, "What are you, our new boy expert?" Even though they were already three years into their twenties, Macey was amazingly still their 'boy expert'… which was pretty pathetic, if you thought about it. But then again, Gallagher had barely had any contact with boys outside of missions.

"No, I just remember everything about what she says about boys. Seriously, Cammie, do you even _want _a boyfriend?" Bex scolds.

"Well, I guess… eventually."

"Then you should know that you shouldn't be completely silent when a boy says he loves you, even if you _are _a chameleon. He's basically ripping out his heart and handing it to you, that's how vulnerable his ego is at that moment, and it's up to you not to take his heart and smash it into billions of pieces," Bex explains.

Cammie starts searching through the drawers of the desk now. "Well, thanks for the guilt trip. But I don't even think I like him."

"_Do_ you?"

"I don't know. I mean, he's nice, smart, funny, definitely cute…"

"Then what's the problem?" Bex chirps.

Suddenly, Cammie's fingers brush against a thick stack of papers with a rubber band wrapped around them. She pulls it out and notices a blue CD case hidden between the papers. Her fingers slip in and snatch it out. "Bex, look at this."

Bex abandons her post at the filing cabinet and comes over. The girls peer over the disk, which was labeled 235U2H. Bex points at the title and declares, "That's the staple chemical formula for all nuclear weapons."

"So this is it, then?" Cammie asks. Bex takes it and rotates it in her hands, looking at it from all angles.

All of a sudden, the office door bursts open and five men in suits file in. "You're in a restricted area," one of them announces. Bex and Cammie glance at each other, and sprint for the door.

With a few roundhouse kicks and uppercut punches aimed for the head, two of the men are knocked down, making way for them to run out the door. "This way!" Bex exclaims, leading Cammie down a hallway and down a flight of stairs so they were now on the third floor.

The distance between Cammie and Bex increases, since Bex clumsily running in a flowy ankle-length dress. "Shit!" Bex shouts as the heel on her high heel snaps off. The guys in tuxedos start closing in on Bex, so Cammie throws her hands in the air.

"Throw it!" Cammie screams. Bex flicks the CD case to her friend, who easily catches the disk.

"Keep running, Cam!" Bex calls after Cammie. Two guys take Bex down with several kicks and a few punches, then they overtake her and hold her down. Cammie turns the corner of the hallway and she can't see anymore.

She keeps running, not knowing where to turn, but all she knew was that the footsteps of the three men chasing after her were becoming farther and father away. Cammie turns a corner and ends up at a dead end, with one door on the right, and it was locked from the inside. There was only a massive window overlooking the white tent in the backyard… and that was three floors below.

"Liz? Liz?" Cammie hisses into her comms unit. But there was only static.

The lock on the door clicks, the door swings open, and Zach steps out. Cammie's eyes widen, but Zach just grabs her wrist. Footsteps were now heard just around the corner. "That's a dead end. Except for the way I came, but there are already guys coming that way too," he explains, nodding towards the room he came from.

Cammie hugs the disk to her pounding chest, and glances nervously down the hallway. "What're we going to do?" she whispers, trying not to be heard by the men coming after her. Plus, she was too winded from her long run to breathe that much.

"Do you trust me?" Zach asks out-of-the-blue. Cammie looks up at him. Despite the fact she was a mix of pissed and guilty about their fight, she nods.

Everything else happened in a blur. The men ran around the corner to start coming after them, a gun went off, Zach tackled her, glass shattered, somebody screamed, and most importantly… Cammie dropped the disk.

_"In the same circumstances, _  
_I know that I would do the same thing again."_  
**- Melita Norwood**


	12. Shouldn't Have Done That

Zach jumped out of the air vent he had been crawling through for the past minute or so. Right when he got into the mansion after parking the Lamborghini, Grant had come up to him and told him that there was a whole group of spies/guards working with Mr. and Mrs. Smith. The guards were going to be guarding the upper-floor hallways, where Cammie and Bex were supposed to be. So Grant and Zach had split up in search of the girls, to warn them.

When Zach was wandering the hallways, however, he accidentally came upon a group of ten guards. He ran off, and the group split into two groups of five. One group was still barely keeping up with him when he ran into a room and climbed into the air vent.

He brushed off the dust from his tuxedo and looks up at the dark air vent. Zach's spy-hearing could hear them clunking their way through the metal vents, but it would be about a minute before they made it all the way through. Zach glances around the room; the only exit was a thick wooden door.

He wiggles the doorknob, but it was locked from the inside, which was weird. He flicks the lock to unlock it, and when he steps into the hallway, he nearly collides with Cammie. Zach's hand whips out and grabs her wrist in surprise. Her big eyes widen, also in surprise, and Zach is just tempted to run away. But he can already hear the guards coming from down the hallway.

"That's a dead end," Zach informs her, nodding his head towards the room he came from, "Except for the way _I_ came, but there are already guys coming from that way too."

"What are we going to do?" Cammie whispers. A shiver shoots up Zach's spine, but he shakes it off. He glances out the window behind him, and back at the corner of the hallway where the guards would soon be coming.

"Do you trust me?" he asks. A flicker of confusion flashes across Cammie's hazel eyes, but she nods despite that fact.

The guards dash around the corner. Zach's eyes flash to their belts, where their hands were reaching for their guns. For the first time, Zach notices the blue CD case in Cammie's hands, and he smirks out of pride.

But as the guards run closer, Zach tackles Cammie. He hugs her head to his chest with one hand, but holds her body to his with the other. They crash into the window, and luckily Cammie's head was guarded by Zach's hand, because glass shards exploded everywhere. As they fly out the window and into the crisp night air, Zach looks down. Everything seems to be going in slow-motion. The dark green lawn passes below them, and the glowing white tent appears.

A gun goes off, and Zach hugs Cammie closer to him. In his peripheral vision, he sees a bullet whiz by and clip the CD case, knocking it out of Cammie's hand. It tumbles to the ground, and the tent slowly starts rushing up from the ground.

Zach flips around in the air so he was the one falling first, and Cammie was free-falling just above him. He loosens his hold on her so he was just barely holding her by the waist. Zach looks up in the window, where the guards were gaping at them from the broken window.

They finally make contact with the tarp roof of the tent. Zach's body sinks into the roof, and Cammie crashes on top of him. The elasticity of the tarp bounces them up then back down a few times. "The disk!" Cammie exclaims, climbing out of Zach's lap and sliding off the roof of the tent. She lands agilely on the ground and jogs over to the CD case on the ground.

Zach hops off the tent and meets her in the middle of the yard. By then, people were streaming out of the tent and looking at the night sky in wonder. A few of them look at Zach and Cammie in suspicion, but Cammie slips the disk into Zach's hands behind her back to hide them from the crowd. "A seagull just dive-bombed onto the tent," Cammie exclaims, pointing to the clear night sky, "But don't worry, it flew off."

The crowd slowly disperses, people mumbling about how the mansion shouldn't be so close to the ocean and how seagulls are such stupid birds. "Come on," Zach says, leading her across the yard towards the parking lot.

"Liz? Bex?" Cammie tries, slightly tapping her comms unit with her finger. "Anybody there?"

A burst of static causes her to flinch, but then Bex replies, "Cammie! Finally! I've been getting all these bad signals, but now it's working. Where are you?"

"Zach and I are on the way to the car. We have the disk. Where are _you_?" Cammie replies.

"Grant was searching the hallways and he found me with the guards. We fought them off, and we left the party right away. We're at Grant's apartment now with Jonas, Liz, and Mrs. Hemlock," Bex explains.

"Okay, we'll be there soon," Cammie says, flipping off her comms unit, which had started screeching static again.

Zach and Cammie climb into their seats and Zach starts the car, gunning the gas and backing up at thirty miles an hour out of their parking space. He spins the wheel, causing the tires to let out a screech in protest as the car whips around. Cammie slams into the car door and quickly fumbles to buckle her seatbelt. "What the hell are you doing?!" she demands. Zach switches from reverse to drive and rockets down the winding road that leads away from the mansion.

"I don't think we'll be able to go to their apartment tonight," Zach replies, tapping the glowing time on the dashboard and glancing into the rearview mirror. It was 11:14p.m. Cammie twists around in her seat to see two guards with black shiny helmets on motorcycles following after them. She collapses against her seat.

"Great," she groans.

"I can lose them fast," Zach says confidently. He turns a sharp corner, with the motorcyclists fast on his tail. The farther he drives, Cammie begins noticing he's headed in the opposite direction from Grant's apartment and their room at the Four Seasons. But she keeps her mouth shut. For a few minutes, he keeps driving faster and faster down a deserted road. "So…," he says.

"So what?"

"…We got a small bump coming up," Zach explains. Suddenly, he spins the wheel so hard that the car turns off the road into a really wide alley, probably where a fair or farmer's market is hosted annually. But then, it was perfectly empty except for a few tipped-over trashcans.

"That wasn't a bu--," Cammie begins, but cuts off mid-sentence as the headlights light up a staircase in front of them. Zach makes the car go faster, and Cammie gasps, clinging to the armrests.

The car zooms off the road, and Cammie's is lifted about an inch off her seat as the car begins falling. With the tires not on the concrete, a loud whirring sound was heard as they spun without any traction. She clenches her teeth and screams at the same time, resulting in an awkward squealing sound. Luckily, the stairwell was short, and the car lands on solid concrete.

As they land, the car rattles, and everything inside the car shakes. Cammie whacks the door with her right shoulder then hits her other shoulder on Zach's shoulder. The tires, now with traction, propel the car away from the stairs.

Cammie turns around to see the motorcyclists halted at the top of the stares, glaring down at them. "We actually outran them!" she exclaims. Zach just smirks and begins driving back to Four Seasons. "So… tell me why we're not staying at Grant's apartment to interrogate Mrs. Hemlock with the others?"

"For one, they should be giving Mrs. Hemlock a break sometime so they don't exhaust her and they can't get any other information from her. Two, there are no extra beds for Mrs. Hemlock, Grant, Bex, Liz, and Jonas. And I really don't want to have to sleep on the floor," Zach explains.

The Lamborghini pulls into a parking space at the Four Seasons and they both step out. They walk into the hotel, across the lobby, and into the elevator. Surprisingly, they were the only guests in the elevator. Zach presses the button for the floor they were staying on, and it slowly rises up.

Cammie holds her breath in the silence and stares at the elevator doors, silently begging them to open up soon. "I'm sorry about what I said… before the party," Zach blurts. Cammie's head whips over to him at the sudden noise. She awkwardly nods and her gaze wavers to the floor again.

"I really do love you, and it's okay if you don't love me back. But I just wanted you to know."

Cammie nods again, feeling like a useless bobble-head. "I know," she answers. She looks up at him as the elevator shakes to a stop. "And… I think I love you too."

_"Love is three-quarters curiosity."_  
**- Giacomo Casanova**

A smile, not a smirk, breaks out over Zach's face as he asks, "Really?" When Cammie nods, he puts his hand on her back and pulls her towards him. Before she knows what's happening, she's flipped upside down with his hands still on her back. He kisses her upside-down, Hollywood movie style.

Suddenly, Cammie somehow hears several high-pitched whistles cheering them on, even through the blood pounding in her ears. Zach lifts her back up, and her world spins around her. Cammie leans against him to keep her balance, and once the spots disappear, she sees the elevator doors already open and a small group of teenage guys smirking at them from the hallway.

Cammie walks out of the elevator with Zach right behind her. She holds her hand out for Zach's room card, since she left hers in her closet. He hands it over and she unlocks the door. Zach gently pushes her into the hotel room, with his hands on her waist. The heavy door slams shut behind them, and Zach leans against it. He spins Cammie around and pulls her towards him.

They start kissing, and Cammie lets out an involuntary moan. Seriously, she had no idea where it even came from. But it caused Zach to chuckle, and he started kissing her with more passion, like he's been waiting his whole life for this. For her. But when Zach playfully bites her bottom lip, Cammie pulls away.

"I'm sorry," Zach immediately blurts. "I shouldn't have done that."

"No! No, you're good," Cammie says. She tucks her hair behind her ear with a small chuckle and continues, "You're definitely good. But the guys who kidnapped me? They may still be here."

Zach catches his breath and looks at her with such a burning intensity in his eyes that it makes Cammie squirm. "I'll search the living room and bathroom," he offers, brushing past her to the living room. Cammie turns to search the bedroom and closet, the last two remaining rooms of the suite.

She looks under the bed, behind furniture, out the windows, and behind the clothing racks in the closet. She unstraps her high heels and kicks them into the corner of the closet once all is clear. Cammie leaves the closet and walks to the arch-doorway that separated the bedroom and living room, to check on if Zach had found anything. But right as she gets to the doorway, Zach practically runs into her. He puts his hands on her arms to stable her from the collision.

"It's all clear," Cammie reports, turning around and scanning the bedroom behind them. Though they hadn't officially slept in the room yet, everything had already been messed up from several searches. When she turns around to face him again, Zach's lips land on hers. They waste no time resuming what they were doing previously in the elevator… and more.

Zach backs her up, not breaking the kiss, and they stumble across the room until they crash into the wall next to the bed. Cammie's hands run through his dark hair and his hands glide down her back. His hands finally land on her butt, and her lifts her up. Still not breaking the kiss, Cammie wraps her legs around his hips and he carries her to the bed.

Zach leans over the bed until Cammie's back makes contact with the mattress. He crouches over her, planting kisses from just below her collarbone all the way to her jaw while Cammie catches her breath. Cammie wraps her arms around Zach's neck and pulls him onto the bed, next to her. She rolls over so now she's laying on his chest.

His fingers fumble for the zipper on her side, and he unzips it all the way down to her hipbones. The opening in the side of her dress sent a rush of chilly air onto her skin that made her let out a shallow gasp. Zach's hand slips into her dress, onto her lower back. Cammie, meanwhile, fumbles with undoing Zach's tie. He reaches up and takes over, untying the tie for her and flinging it across the room.

Cammie unbuttons his tuxedo jacket and Zach sits up to shrug himself out of it. Cammie shifts herself so she was sitting in his lap. She kicks the jacket off the bed and cups his cheeks in her hands, pulling him in to she could plant several kisses along his jaw. Zach unbuttons his white cotton shirt and takes that off, too, leaving him completely shirtless. He lays back down on the bed and Cammie lays on the bed next to him.

She wiggles out the dress and tosses the expensive fabric onto the floor. Cammie was left in her black strapless bra and black lacy panties. Both of their eyes travel up and down each other's bodies, taking in every square inch. Zach reaches for Cammie and pulls her close to him. He crouches over her, with his arms under her shoulders and his fingers intertwined with her hair.

She runs her fingers down Zach's smooth chest and across his tight six-pack abs. "Careful of my head," Cammie purrs into Zach's ear, whose hands were traveling dangerously close to the painful bump on her head that she got when she was knocked unconscious by her kidnappers.

"_Fuck_," Zach hisses, rolling off of her and walking across the room. He runs his hands through his hair then exasperatedly drops his arms to his sides.

"No! Where are you going?" Cammie protests, sitting straight up in the bed. She pulls a bed sheet across her lap, since the sudden disappearance of Zach's body heat on her bare skin left her with chills.

"Christ, Cammie. You were just kidnapped, what, a few hours ago?" Zach scowls. He starts pacing the room, and Cammie can't take her eyes off him. His muscles rippled underneath his skin whenever he moved.

"Yeah, but that was hours ago," she points out.

"You're emotionally unstable. I don't want to be an asshole and take advantage of that," Zach explains. But Cammie just scoffs. "Listen, this isn't any easier for me, seeing you like this." He motions to Cammie, only in her lingerie. "You need rest tonight anyway. And if I continue, rest will be the last thing you'll be getting."

Zach scans the ground, which was littered with shed clothes. He picks up the white cotton long-sleeve shirt he had been wearing under his tuxedo jacket and tosses it to Cammie. "Put that on," he tells her. His shirt would probably cover much more skin than one of her pajama tops, and the more skin was covered, the more control he had to not just jump onto the bed and rip all her clothes off.

"You know, in the morning I'll probably be grateful you were such a gentleman tonight," Cammie admits, putting her arms through the sleeves and buttoning up the white buttons. The sleeves ended a few inches beyond her hand. Zach came over and rolled up the sleeves a few times to shorten them up.

"But now?"

"Right now my feelings toward you are a lot less pleasant," Cammie says with a smirk of her own. Zach chuckles and walks around to the other side of the bed to unbuckle his belt. He tosses the belt on the chair and steps out of his black dress pants.

When Zach pulls back the bed sheets to climb in, though, Cammie stops him. "What do you think you're doing? _I _have to wear this massive shirt to bed, and you think you can just go to bed in your boxers and socks, and that's it? Go put something on," Cammie orders.

Zach smirks and finds a white tank top on the ground, then slips that over his head. "Better?" he asks.

"It'll do," Cammie replies. His abs were her main weakness, and even though the muscles were still tight against the tank top, they were at least partially hidden. Zach climbs into bed and tosses the covers over himself. Cammie burrows under the covers and plops her head on the pillow.

Zach reaches for the lamp on the bed-table beside him, and snaps off the light. "Goodnight, Cammie," he tells her.

Cammie scoots over and puts her head on Zach's shoulder. A shiver goes up Zach's spine as her hair fans across his bare shoulder and tickles his skin. "Night, Zach," she breathes in his ear.

_"When love is in the way, as a general rule, _  
_men and women constantly dupe each other."_  
**- Giacomo Casanova**

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(Author's Note: So, I made a long chapter to hopefully make up for not writing in a while. I hope you guys liked this chapter, since I really liked writing it. Lol. OMG, and you guys will NOT believe the book I'm about to tell you about. It's called

**Something About You**** by Julie James, and it's about a lawyer and an FBI agent falling in love. The lawyer is named Cameron, and the FBI agent is named Jack, which rhymes with Zach. Coincidence, much? I read the whole book in one day, it was so good. The summary is that Cameron witnesses a murder and Jack is the one who comes to interview her. Soon he has to start spending all his time with her to protect her from the murderer, who wants to kill her for witnessing his crime. It's soooo good! Everybody go and read it. It's an amazing book.)**


	13. Miami Police and the FBI

Zach woke up the next morning with Cammie curled up at his side. Her long hair was splayed across his chest and their pillow. The best thing was that she smelled really good… like a mix of cinnamon, orange, and jasmine. He couldn't tell whether that was her perfume or shampoo or a mix of both.

Then he became aware of her butt, which his shirt barely covered, that was lightly touching his hip. Zach clenches his stomach, inwardly groans, and looks at the ceiling. Why the hell did he stop them last night? He'd slept with a lot of women before, particularly other women that he met while undercover. But why was Cammie different?

Zach looks at the alarm clock on the table next to the bed, which blinked 9:59a.m. in a glowing red light. He poised his hand over the alarm clock, and the second it turned to 10:00a.m., he snapped off the alarm before it could wake Cammie up. Technically, they were supposed to be at Grant's apartment at 11:00, but Cammie looked too peaceful sleeping right next to him. Zach didn't want to wake her up.

But then, from across the suite, Zach hears a toilet flush. The sound of the flushing water seemed too close; almost like somebody was using_ their_ toilet in _their _bathroom in _their _suite. Zach peeked at Cammie, who apparently didn't hear the flush, since she was still asleep. He vowed right then and there that he wouldn't let anybody hurt her as long as he was concerned.

Zach flips the covers off him and gently takes his arm out from under Cammie's head. He tip-toes in his socks through the living room to the bathroom door, which was closed. He cocked his head and, sure enough, somebody was now using the sink. The water shut off, and Zach pressed against the wall.

The bathroom door opened, and Zach lunged for the intruder. He twisted their arm and flipped them over his head. The intruder crashes on the coffee table, shattering the vase of flowers on the floor and snapping the wood in half. The person moans in pain.

Cammie snaps awake and sits straight up in bed, looking at the scene before her. Zach looks down at the person lying in the rubble and shouts, "Grant! What the hell?"

"Grant?" Cammie repeats, completely alert despite her rude awakening. She climbs out of bed and shuffles into the living room. "What are you doing here? And more importantly, how did you get in?"

Grant struggles into a sitting position and Cammie helps him stand up. "Well, we were all in my apartment this morning and we tried calling you both on your cellphones, but neither of you answered. Liz tried Cammie's comms unit, but that was apparently turned off too. So they sent me over here to get you guys," Grant explains.

"Okay, great, but how'd you get in? Couldn't you just have knocked on the front door like a normal person?" Zach asked. He was still a bit pissed off.

"It's not that hard to pick-pocket the guy at the front desk to get the master key for all the hotel rooms," Grant sneers.

"Why didn't you just wake us up right when you got in? It could have spared us all this trouble," Cammie points out, gesturing to all the glass shards and wood panels and smashed flowers on the floor.

"Well, I had to pee," Grant explains. He smirks at Zach, "And you two just looked too _adorrr_able sleeping together to wake up. Speaking of sleeping together… Did you two do anything worth mentioning last night?"

Zach looks at Cammie out of the corner of his eye, and sees that she was blushing and pulling on the hem of his shirt she was wearing. "Shut up, Grant," Zach growls, punching him hard on the shoulder, causing his friend to flinch. "Now why are you here?"

"Jonas wanted to know what to do with Mrs. Hemlock. He says he got all the information they needed out of her. They sent me over here because apparently I was 'annoying' them," Grant scoffs. "Whatever they mean by _that_. I mean, seriously. Me? Annoying?"

"Grant, listen," Zach says, putting his hand on Grant's shoulder, "You're my best friend, so don't take this the wrong way. But you _can _be a bit obnoxious sometimes."

Grant shakes Zach's hand off his shoulder and lets out a huff. "Whatever. I'll be downstairs in the lobby. If you two aren't down in fifteen minutes, I'm leaving without you," he warns, slamming the front door shut behind him.

"I'll start getting ready," Cammie says, backing out of the living room towards the bedroom. Zach reaches out for her and pulls her towards him, giving her a gentle kiss on the lips. He couldn't resist; she looked too darn sexy in just his shirt and a curly case of bed-head.

"Meet you in the lobby," Zach replies once he breaks the kiss. Cammie smiles, rolls her eyes, and walks to the closet. She runs her fingers through her half-wavy-half-curly hair that was her usual result of a full night's sleep. With only fifteen minutes to get dressed, she decides to just put it up in a messy bun.

Cammie decides to skip the whole makeup routine and just applies the basics: lipgloss, eye liner, and mascara. She picks out a V-neck navy tank top that was actually so long it was pretty much a dress. She puts that over a white cami and dangles several bronze necklaces from her neck. Cammie also puts on a chunky wooden bracelet on each wrist and a brown headband to pull back her wispy bangs. Lastly, she attaches a skinny brown leather belt around her hips and steps into metallic bronze ballet flats.

Cammie leaves the walk-in closet to find that Zach had already left the suite. It figures. Guys only had to wake up, put on some clothes, and they were good to go. She goes into the hallway and rides down the elevator with several businessmen all yelling into their cellphones at once.

In the lobby, Zach was grinning like crazy at Grant, who was smirking. "Dude, I can't thank you enough," Cammie hears Zach blurt when she's finally close enough to hear them.

"What did he do?" she asks.

"Look," Grant answers for Zach, pointing out the door to the two shiny black motorcycles sitting under the overhang of the hotel. Cammie didn't know much about motorcycles, but they looked expensive. Maybe not Harley-expensive, but they looked like they cost a lot.

"We're riding on… those?" she asks. The guys seemed to ignore her.

"Grant, I don't know how you got these all the way from Berlin, but this is awesome," Zach says with a grin.

"That mission in Berlin was a blast," Grant agrees, leading the way outside the hotel. "I just figured we should relive it in Miami." Grant climbs on his motorcycle and Zach does the same with his.

"I'll call a cab and meet you at Grant's apartment," Cammie says.

Finally Zach turned to her. "Why would you call a cab?"

"I'm in a dress," Cammie points out. "I'll either call a cab, or you're going to have to wait for me to change."

Zach shakes his head. "No time. We're already late. And you look great," he replies, patting the black leather seat behind him. "Just climb on, trust me."

Cammie hikes up her dress, accidentally showing too much leg and causing Grant to whistle. Zach glares at Grant, who shrugs, and she straddles the motorcycle behind Zach. Cammie adjusts her dress and asks, "Are there any helmets?"

"We're all 23 years old," Grant explains, "So motorcycle helmets aren't required in Florida."

"I'll drive safe," Zach promises. Grant starts the motorcycle and roars off in front of them. Zach starts the motorcycle and looks back at Cammie, who was just sitting there.

"What do I hold on to?" she asks over the roar of the engine.

"Me."

"Oh." Cammie wraps her arms around his stomach and scoots closer. Zach tugs on the throttle, and they shoot out of the hotel parking lot. Cammie squeezes her eyes shut as the motorcycle tilts at a nerve-wracking angle to turn a corner. Suddenly Cammie feels her cellphone vibrate in the front-thigh pocket of her tank-dress. She ignores it, not risking to take her arms off of Zach to answer it.

After a few minutes of riding on the motorcycle, Cammie starts to get a hang of it. Whenever Zach turned left, she would lean left. If he turned right, she'd lean right. It helped to keep the motorcycle on balance, something that she desperately wanted in order to stay calm.

Her grip loosens from around Zach the longer they ride. She tilts her head a bit to the right to peer over Zach's shoulder in the direction they were going. They were nearly to Grant's apartment; just a few blocks away. Apparently Zach sees her in his peripheral vision, because he turns his head to the right and exclaims, "So how's your first motorcycle ride going so far?"

"Good!" Cammie replies. She has to talk a bit louder than normal for him to hear her over the motorcycle's engine. "Eyes on the road, by the way. But I don't want it to end so fast. Can we go the long way?"

Zach smirks in her direction as Grant turns left at the next corner to get to his apartment. "Just a quick detour," he promises. Instead of turning left, Zach has them turn right, and Cammie lets out a giddy laugh. For some reason, the combination of the wind blowing through her hair, the warm Miami sun on her skin, and the fact that she was practically straddling Zach made her unbearably happy. Soon Zach starts leaning back against her, causing Cammie to lean back. Cammie starts panicking, since they were now whizzing down an empty street and if she fell, nobody would be around to see them crash. Her breath caught in her throat as the front tire lifted off the ground. "What are you doing?" she demands.

Zach leans forward a bit to keep them balanced on the back wheel. "I think it's pretty obvious what I'm doing!" he replies with another smirk. Though she wanted to wipe that smirk right off his face, she didn't dare let go of him for fear of slipping off the seat. Instead, Cammie tightened her grip on Zach's stomach, and her fingers brush across his rippled abs. She feels his abs tighten in response.

Finally, the front wheel touches back down on the ground. Cammie lets out a sigh of relief as she finds them turned around and in front of Grant's apartment building. Zach cuts the engine, and Cammie immediately hops off the motorcycle. Her legs were shaking and her heart was beating at least twice as fast as usual.

"What?" Zach asks innocently, draping his arm around her shoulders. "The wheelie a bit too much for you?"

"Um, yeah," Cammie answers as they head into the apartment building and into the elevator to Grant's apartment floor. "That's one experience I do not wish to relive. But the ride in general was amazing."

"Glad you liked it. We'll have to try it again soon."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Zach explains, "This mission isn't over yet. We'll have plenty of time to use the motorcycles." They walk down the hallway and knock on Grant's apartment, which opens right after Zach drops his arm from Cammie's shoulders.

"What'd you find out from Mrs. Hemlock?" Cammie asks immediately after they enter the apartment and the door shuts.

"Quite a bit, actually. Jonas and Liz are going to tell us everything they've found out after we find out what to do with Mrs. Hemlock," Grant explains as he leads them into the living room, where Bex was waiting with Liz and Jonas. Mrs. Hemlock was still tied up in the guest room.

"I say we just end it. Right now," Bex was saying, making a cutting motion on her neck with her hand, as they walk into the living room.

"We can't just kill Mrs. Hemlock!" Liz exclaims.

"But we have all the information we need from her right? So why not kill her now before she somehow escapes or gets her information leaked to Mr. and Mrs. Smith?" Bex continues, looking to her friends for back-up.

"I don't think we should kill her, but we should at least get her put in jail or somewhere else for safekeeping, wouldn't you think?" Cammie asks warily.

"I agree with Cammie," Zach agrees.

Bex shoots him a look, crosses her arms, and hisses bitterly, "You _would_ agree with her, lover-boy."

Zach glances over at Cammie to gauge her reaction, but she looked unfazed. "Listen, let's just contact Mr. Solomon so we can get Mrs. Hemlock outta here and get on with the mission without having to worry about her constantly," Cammie continues.

"On it," Jonas reports, dialing Mr. Solomon's number into his cellphone. Everybody stays quiet as Jonas murmurs into the phone and periodically pauses to hear Mr. Solomon's response. Finally, Jonas hangs up and says, "He's sending over a few Miami police to come arrest Mrs. Hemlock , then they'll take her to a specialized prison where the FBI will pick her up later tonight so there will be no chance of any information getting to Mr. or Mrs. Smith."

"Speaking of Mr. and Mrs. Smith, here's the disk Cammie retrieved last night from the party at their mansion. I'm sure it has information about the nuclear weapon they're building," Zach blurts, withdrawing the blue CD case from his jacket pocket.

"Ah, 235U2H, the chemical symbol for a hydrogen bomb, since it contains simply hydrogen and uranium," Jonas thinks out-loud, looking at the CD case in his hands.

Liz snatches the CD from his hands and says, "We should check this out on the computer, then scan local Miami areas for high concentrations of Uranium and Hydrogen to locate the nuclear weapon. But for now… I need you all to take a seat. Jonas and I found out some pretty disturbing information from Mrs. Hemlock."

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(Author's Note: I'm so sorry this chapter took forever! Honestly, I totally forgot about this story. Haha, oops. But I have four other stories going simultaneously, so I can't really commit a hundred percent to this one. Still, I hope you liked this chapter and I'll reallllly try hard to update again soon.)


	14. Bailando Sucio

"What do you mean you have some disturbing information?" Bex asks once they were all seated on the couch. Liz and Jonas stood in front of the group in the middle of the living room, looking at each other nervously.

"Well…," Liz begins, "There really isn't any easy way to say this, so I'm just going to come out and say it. Apparently the terrorist group was further along than we thought. According to Mrs. Hemlock, they were already over halfway done with the nuclear weapon and are now tying up the last few strings, which will be the easier part of their operation."

"So what are we going to do?" Bex asks.

"We don't know," Jonas answers nervously. "That was why we were gonna run this by you all to try to figure out our next move. But whatever we do, we have to do it fast."

Zach stands up and starts pacing the room with his hands deep in his pockets. "Okay, first thing we need to do is find where the nuclear weapon is stored so we can start planning an attack. Jonas, what did Mrs. Hemlock say about where the weapon was being stored?" he asks.

Jonas sighs and replies, "She didn't know. Apparently she was only in charge of getting the supplies for the nuclear weapon, and other people came to take them to the warehouse, or wherever it's being stored."

"Okay, then. Do you know who came to pick up the supplies?"

"Even Mrs. Hemlock didn't know them. All she knew was to leave the supplies in a warehouse and leave the code carved under a plant pot, then they came to take the supplies to the people working on the nuclear weapon."

"They're running quite the elaborate scheme here," Bex comments. Jonas nods in agreement, and Zach just runs his hands through his hair in frustration.

"What about the people who she got the supplies from? Does Mrs. Hemlock know them?" Zach asks, desperate to be getting some sort of lead.

"Actually," Liz butts in, "She does. It's only one person though, a guy named Mr. Montejo."

"Great. Jonas, find a Mr. Montejo somewhere in the Miami area. I have a feeling that name isn't so popular, so he'll be easy to find," Zach orders, "And Liz? You can get started on searching for high concentrations of uranium and hydrogen in Miami areas."

"On it," Liz replies, hunching over her own laptop next to Jonas at the kitchen counter. Immediately after Liz sits down on a stool, Jonas' head snaps up.

"Found him," Jonas exclaims.

"Damn, how'd you do that so bloody quickly?" Bex asks, her British accent even more apparent than usual.

But Jonas just shrugs modestly and says, "According to this website I hacked into, Mr. Montejo has signed up to be on the VIP list at the Spanish nightclub called Bailando Sucio."

"Bailando Sucio? That's a weird name for a club. Who would name a club 'Dirty Dancing'?" Grant points out.

"It's appropriately named, I'm guessing."

"True."

"Okay, can we focus here?" Jonas asks. "Mr. Montejo will be in the VIP room of Bailando Sucio at ten o'clock tonight. We have to get there early, though, to be able to find him when he walks in."

"Well, everybody, we have a little over ten hours to get ready for the mission," Liz announces. "So I'd suggest you all go shopping for new dresses or tuxedos to wear while Jonas and I go drive around Miami a bit to try to track down any concentrations of uranium and hydrogen."

The group disperses, all heading in different directions, and Bex walks up to Liz with Cammie in tow.

"So I'm guessing sex appeal will come into play in this?" Bex asks.

"Most likely," Liz says.

_"Sex appeal is fifty percent what you've got _  
_and fifty percent what people think you've got."_  
_-_** Sophia Loren**

"That's what I thought. I'm taking Cammie to the gym to teach her how to dirty dance so she won't look out of place at the club, since Cammie has about as much sex appeal as a potato," Bex replies. Liz bursts out laughing, and Cammie just glares at her friends.

"What? I'm not that bad, am I?"

"Only at dirty dancing, Cam," Liz excuses through her tears from laughing so hard. Cammie grimaces and Bex drags her out of the apartment to the street, where they quickly hail a cab.

Bex tells the cab driver to take them to the nearest gym, and they walk inside. After Bex and Cammie both buy day passes, Bex leads the way into an empty ballet-studio-looking room with dark hardwood floors and glass mirrors all around the walls.

"You know what reggaeton is, right?" Bex asks, attaching her iPod to a handy boom-box in the corner of the room. When Cammie doesn't answer, Bex looks up at her friend with an exasperated look on her face. "Reggaeton is a kind of Spanish rap mixed with tons of bass and techno-ish kinda, um, sounds. I don't know. You just have to listen."

Bex turns on her iPod and then turns up the boom-box as loud as it can go without Cammie not being able to hear Bex's instructions. "Okay!" Bex says over the music, "For the majority of reggaeton songs, you'll either have your hands in the air, in your hair, or on your thighs."

Bex goes and stands next to Cammie, facing the mirror, where they look at their reflections. As she puts her hands in the air, Bex starts swinging her hips side to side along with the booming bass beat that they could feel vibrating in their chests. Bex was glad the dance room was sound-proof.

"Now, move your hips side to side. But you can also move them back and forth, or in a clockwise motion. Vary the speed at which you're moving your hips, either faster or slower, for variation so your dance doesn't get boring," Bex explains.

Cammie begins following Bex's lead and starts swinging her hips back and forth to the beat. She curls her lip at the way her reflection looks.

"Move your hips more fluidly. You want them to flow from side to side so it looks natural. And you don't want to look like a snake by moving your whole body. Focus on keeping the upper part of your body still, except for your arms, while you move your hips," Bex instructs.

Cammie struggles to control the upper portion of her body as Bex looks on. Finally, she controls her upper body from moving along with her hips.

"Good!" Bex exclaims. "Now keep your hips going and lean your upper body forward. Shake your shoulders forwards and back and, well, I think you know how to shimmy."

Both girls lean forwards and shimmy towards the mirror.

"You can also put some variation into your dance by bending your knees to go lower or higher. When you're already low enough, though, and you want to get higher again, arch your tailbone and stand up quick. Like this," Bex says, demonstrating in the mirror.

Cammie tries to copy, but Bex begins laughing.

"You look like a retarded kangaroo!"

"Gee, thanks."

"Sorry. Remember, keep your movements fluid-like and natural. Don't make very many sudden harsh movements that might mess up the sex factor. Just bend down, slowly arch your tailbone, and straighten your legs," Bex elaborates."

Bex heads over to her iPod while Cammie practices in the mirror, and Bex bends down to change the song. As she returns to in front of the mirror, her iPod shuffles to En Sus Marcas Listos Fuera by Daddy Yankee, a ridiculously fast-paced song with loud bass beats.

"I can't move my hips this fast!" Cammie complains.

"Of course you can!" Bex insists. "But this time you'll have to move your hips forwards and backwards instead of side to side. Just stand with your knees slightly bent, and arc your lower back. Then curl it in as much as you can without looking hunch-backed. Curl it out, then back in, and out, in, out in, faster and faster until you're practically bouncing your butt up and down," Bex elaborates.

Cammie just stares at Bex, who shrugs.

"Hey, it's called dirty dancing, right? Now you go," she orders. Cammie starts dancing just like Bex explained, except… a lot worse. "Faster!" Bex exclaims. Cammie struggles to go faster, then Bex continues, "Faster! Faster! Faster! WHAT DON'T YOU GET ABOUT THE WORD FASTER?"

Soon Cammie gets to a suitable speed where she's actually dancing along to the beat. In a minute, however, Cammie's body totally slumps. "Ohmygod! I can't take any more of that!" she exclaims.

"Exactly. Only save that move for the fastest part of the song, which should only last about twenty seconds at max. Now come on, you gotta practice. By tonight, we have to be Spanish-speaking beauties who know how to bailando sucio!" Bex replies.

In two hours, Bex and Cammie leave the gym as two sore blobs of flesh. After practicing to sixty of Bex's favorite reggaeton songs on her iPod, they were both sweaty beyond belief, so they had taken a shower in the women's locker room. Now, their hair was flat and lifeless.

"How about we hit the salon?" Bex asks. "After all, we do have a massive budget for this mission."

"Sounds good to me," Cammie agrees.

In another hour, both of them had salon-styled hair. Bex had her dark brown hair curled into large bouncing curls, and Cammie had her lighter hair curled into loose, sexy curls.

Being girls, Bex and Cammie couldn't help but stop by the spa right next to the salon to get manicures and to put on their makeup in the large mirror in the spa bathroom. They leave the spa with glistening French-tipped nails and smokey eye shadow. Their next trip was to a dress store in the mall for new dresses for tonight, and both Bex and Cammie grab a handful to take into a shared dressing room with each other. As Cammie was helping to zip Bex up into a dark red dress, Cammie's cellphone buzzes and she abandons Bex to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Gallagher Girl. Grant and I will be right over to pick you two up. Buy your dresses and we'll be on our way to bring you back to Grant's apartment to change," Zach says, hanging up immediately after speaking. Cammie hangs up her phone in a daze, like she always was after one of Zach's confusing phone conversations.

"Who was that?" Bex asks, examining her reflection in the mirror.

"Zach. He says he's coming with Grant right now to come pick us up to take us to the apartment so we can change and get to Bailando Sucio right now," Cammie asks, quickly stepping out of the dress she's decided on and unzipping Bex's dress for her.

The girls manage to swiftly change into their regular clothes, since they had mastered the Quick Change portion of Madame Dabney's C&A class. They bring their dresses up to the counter and check out, half-running out of the store to get outside, where Zach's Lamborghini has already pulled up to the curb.

Outside, Cammie was surprised it was already dark out. They had apparently spent all day dancing and shopping that she barely had time to notice what time it was. The sky was lit up with lights from all the skyscrapers around and the roads were packed full of cars.

Bex climbs into the backseat next to Grant and Cammie takes a seat in the passenger's seat next to Zach. The guys were already dressed in their tuxedos. They were only a few blocks away from Grant's apartment, but it would be much faster to drive than walk through all the nightlife traffic. The Lamborghini pulls up to Grant's apartment building.

"You ladies have fifteen minutes to get dressed and get down here," Zach orders, "Starting now." Bex and Cammie scramble out of the car and up to Grant's apartment, where they let themselves in and head to the guest room to change.

In the guest room, Mrs. Hemlock's interrogation chair is empty. Bex and Cammie quickly strip down into near nothing then throw on their dresses.

Cammie is wearing a shimmery cream-colored silk dress that had thin spaghetti straps and a V-neck. The dress went down to her knees and had a split in it that crept up her thigh. Then she put on a pair of strappy metallic gold stiletto heels to complete the look.

Bex puts on her own red dress and silver heels and they quickly leave the guest room with seven minutes to spare. "Hey, the Miami police came to take Mrs. Hemlock into custody," Liz explains as they rush past her in the kitchen.

"Great. How's the search for uranium and hydrogen deposits coming along?" Cammie asks.

"Okay, I guess. But it would be much quicker to find the nuclear weapon by just interrogating Mr. Montejo about it. By the way, here's some comms units to keep in contact. Keep us up-to-date on everything going on," Liz explains, handing Cammie three comms units and Bex her own.

"Alright, see you, Bookworm! Good luck!" Cammie exclaims, leaving the apartment with Bex. They both have comms units in their ears, and when Cammie gets into the Lamborghini, she hands out the other two comms units to Grant and Zach.

"Ready for Bailando Sucio?" Grant asks slyly, eyeing Bex's dress.

"As ready as we'll ever be."

**

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**

(Author's Note: Haha, hope you enjoyed my dancing tips I incorporated into there. I can't wait to write the next chapter, so that may be up relatively quickly, but I can't guarantee much. Sorry this chapter was kinda rushed, but there wasn't much going on and I had to hurry to get to the intense part, which will be in the next chapter. If you actually like reggaeton music, like me, I also have a few songs I'd recommend:

**La Vita E by Nek**

**Calabria by Enur Feat. Natasja**

**Go Girl by Pitbull**

**Te Regalo Amores by Rakin Y Ken**

**Ojos Que No Vien by Alexis & Fido**

**No Te Veo by Alex Perez**

**Soy Igual Que Tú by Alexis & Fido**

**Ella Y Yo by Aventura**

**Virtual Diva by Don Omar**

**Baby Te Quiero by Dj Flex Feat. Belinda)**


	15. You Impress Me

After parking the Lamborghini in a parking space on the far side of the parking lot, since that was the only parking spot that was left, Zach climbs out of the driver's seat and goes around to open Cammie's door. She looks at him bashfully, and steps out to put her arm in his.

Grant and Bex climb out of the backseat and start walking across the parking lot. Bex elbows him in the side and hisses, "Now that's what a real gentleman looks like," while cocking her head towards Zach. Grant rolls his eyes and scoffs.

"There's no pleasing you," Grant complains. The four spies wait in line at the door until they're finally at the front of the line. The bouncer stands in front of the door with his large biceps crossed.

"_Identificación, por favor_," the bouncer thunders in a deep baritone voice. The spies hold out their I.D.'s as he checks them. Once he finds them suitable, the bouncer steps aside. "_Gracias._"

"_De nada_," Grant replies. Zach smirks. His friend was always using excuses to use any one of the many foreign languages they learned at Blackthorne Academy, just because he thought it made him seem smart.

Inside Bailando Sucio, the dancefloor was packed full of individuals of Miami's Spanish population. The DJ held a set of headphones to one ear while the other hand was busy flipping CD tracks, scratching the disks, and adjusting the volume as needed. A throbbing bass beat filled the air and the chests of everybody in the area.

Cammie slipped her hand from Zach's arm into his hand as he lead her through the crowd over to the bar. They take a seat in the first two barstools they see to scope out the front door. While Zach orders their drinks from the bartender, Cammie turns around and asks into her comms unit, "Liz? What exactly does Mr. Montejo look like?"

"He's Mexican, as you could obviously tell by his last name, and he has black hair with tannish skin and brown eyes-"

"Liz, that basically describes every single Mexican guy in here. Which there are a lot of. So be more specific, please?" Cammie asks.

"Well, he has short black hair that's usually gelled up into spikes, and he has a small freckle on his left temple. He may have a lip piercing or he may not, so look for that. And he has a vertical black tattoo on his upper bicep from fraternity days, but it may be covered too. Oh, and he's pretty short, about five foot, seven inches. He's obsessed with soccer too, so he may wear a jersey. That enough information, Chameleon?" Liz asks.

"_Si, señorita_," Cammie sings. She turns to Zach, whom the bartender has just walked away from. He was smirking at her. "What?"

"I think we just may have our target," Zach boasts, looking through the crowd to the dancefloor. Cammie follows his gaze and sees a short Spanish man with spiky gelled hair and a navy soccer jersey. As he turned, Cammie could also see his lip piercing and the freckle on his temple, though his tattoo was covered by the sleeves of his jersey.

"Let's go dance," Cammie suggests, pulling Zach away from the bar before their drinks even arrived. They manage to get a spot on the dancefloor somewhat near Mr. Montejo so they can keep an eye on him.

The song changes to Go Girl by Pitbull, one of the songs Cammie remembers from Bex's iPod. The crowd on the dancefloor lets out a drunken cheer as they recognize the song too, the bass beat pounding in their chests. Cammie immediately begins swinging her hips back and forth to the beat along with the dozens of girls around her who were dancing with their own guys.

_"My success and my misfortunes, _  
_the bright and the dark days I have gone through, _  
_everything has proved to me that in this world, _  
_either physical or moral, _  
_good comes out of evil just as well as evil comes out of good."_  
**- Giacomo Casanova**

Zach steps behind Cammie and puts his hands on her hips, dancing however guys do. She didn't have the urge to turn her head and see how Zach danced. Suddenly a drunk guy goes stumbling past them, singing and slurring at the top of his voice along with Pitbull, "I party like a rock-star, look like a movie-star, play like all all-star, fuck like a porn-star, baby, I'm a super-star!" before disappearing into the crowd once more.

Zach lowers his lips to Cammie's ear and murmurs, "So what's the plan, Cam?"

For some reason, most likely because his hands on his hips, shivers shoot up her spine. Cammie bites her lip and scans the dancers in front of her, mainly watching Mr. Montejo. At the moment, he was pressed up against the back of some slut and practically having air-sex, with their clothes on, of course. A bottle of liquor was in his hand, which he held high in the air, which would be easier to keep track on him.

The song changes to a faster tempo, and the crowd sings along, "Go girl, go girl, go girl, go girl!" Cammie's hips shimmy back and forth, and she hardly notices, since it was now more of a subconscious response instead of a dance move she really needs to focus on. Soon the beat slows down once more and she resumes dancing as she had in the beginning.

Zach bends his head down more so his ear was by Cammie's mouth, which she'd turned to the side to be able to reply to him since he was behind her. "I think that the next time Mr. Montejo leaves the dancefloor, we should follow him and somehow get him to leave the club," Cammie says over the music.

Zach nods and replies, "How are we going to get him to come out?"

"I guess I'll think of it when we get there," Cammie answers, "For now, just keep an eye on him." Zach nods again instead of replying and they both turn to look at Mr. Montejo.

He now had his hand on the slut's back, and she was bent forward at the ninety degree angle, bouncing her butt on Mr. Montejo's crotch. Cammie shudders in disgust, and Zach laughs, having had felt the tremors from his hands on her hips.

Suddenly loud, high-pitched beeping comes over the stereos. Cammie can't remember this part of the song, so she just watches a few of the girls around her. One girl was singing along, "…When I back it up, like a Mack truck!"

The beeping, now recognized as the backing-up beeping on a truck, gets louder and is accompanied by heavy panting from whichever female singer was singing with Pitbull. Cammie takes small steps backwards while still gyrating her hips, closing the gap between her butt and Zach's crotch.

Cammie grits her teeth as she feels Zach's 'man parts' against her through the thin fabric of his dress pants. Combined with the smell of Zach's spearmint gum and the events, or _almost_-events, from last night… Cammie could hardly withstand it.

Luckily, after a nerve-racking fifty seconds of torture, the song ended and Mr. Montejo began walking off the dancefloor with his slut-friend in tow. "Come on," Cammie orders, anxious to stop dancing and hopefully push that whole experience out of her memory. She grabs Zach's hand and pulls him off the dancefloor following after Mr. Montejo.

"What's the plan?" Zach asks a second time.

"I'm thinking!" Cammie whispers. She keeps heading determinedly towards Mr. Montejo, who had stopped by the bar for a refill. Cammie drops Zach's hand and approaches Mr. Montejo.

"Excuse me, are you Mr. Montejo?" Cammie asks seductively. If she couldn't get him out of Bailando Sucio with what she was about to say, then maybe sexual appeal would work.

The pervert turns around and looks her up and down very slowly, determining whether the conversation was worth continuing. Out of the corner of her eye, Cammie could see Zach clenching his jaw from a couple yards away. "Yes… I am. What's a sexy girl like you want from a guy like me?" Mr. Montejo asks, taking a step closer.

Cammie holds her ground, looking eye-to-eye with the man, which was saying something since she was already really short. "Well, I just saw some thugs completely trashing a car in the parking lot and they were saying something about someone named Mr. Montejo… And I just thought you'd like to know," Cammie informs him, widening her eyes to look genuinely scared about the thugs.

Instead of asking how she even knew his name was Mr. Montejo, he storms out of Bailando Sucio, abandoning his slut-friend at the bar. Cammie quickly follows him out of the club, with Zach a little bit behind her.

Mr. Montejo turns around the corner of the club to an area of the parking lot closed off from all other people. Zach hides around the corner, ready to pop out to help Cammie if need be. Apparently Mr. Montejo spots his car in pristine condition because he freezes in place on the sidewalk and asks, "What do you mean? There's no thugs here."

Cammie shrugs and replies, "Oopsies."

A sly smirk sneaks across Mr. Montejo's face and he asks suggestively, "Did the 'thugs' beat up a different car, or was this all just a plot to get me out here alone with you?"

"Actually, no," Zach says, finally stepping around the corner and putting his hand on Cammie's lower back. "She's with me. We have a few words we'd like to say to you."

Now Mr. Montejo was getting a little antsy, taking a few steps away from them. "What do you-?"

"Don't worry, this shouldn't hurt more than a bit," Cammie assures him. She does a roundhouse-kick and lands a firm kick to his temple, accidentally flashing Zach in the process. Mr. Montejo crumples to an unconscious heap on the sidewalk.

Zach just chuckles and peers down at the body. "You amaze me, Cameron," he mutters, running a hand through his hair.

Cammie just crosses her arms and smiles a small satisfactory smile. "Good," she replies.

* * *

**(Author's Note: Too short. Sorry about that. This chapter was just mainly capturing Mr. Montejo, so the next chapter will obviously be much more entertaining. And longer! I promise. So review, tell me what you liked or didn't like. And please tell me more than just 'update soon.' Not to sound rude, which I totally don't want since I LOVE you reviewers, but it gets a little monotinous clicking through all the Fanfiction e-mail notifications just to get a quick two-worded review. And I'll update when I'll update, not according to when my reviewers tell me to. *SORRY!* So, thanks to listening to me whine. Haha. Review!)**


	16. Hotel Room Number 15

**(Author's Note: Hahaha, okay, after receiving several reviews telling me to 'update soon,' I must say it doesn't bother me unless the review ONLY consists of 'update soon' and no other advice, criticism, or praise. Just wanted to make that clear. I'm happy to know you guys like my story so much to be anticipating for the next chapter. Thank you!) **

* * *

"Did you find any uranium or hydrogen concentration near here?" Cammie asks Liz as their group stands around in Grant's apartment. Zach and Jonas were currently tying up an unconscious Mr. Montejo in the guest room for interrogation once he wakes up from Cammie's perfected roundhouse-kick.

"Not yet. Jonas and I drove around the Miami area looking to see if the concentration levels show up in the charts. We're getting our results back from the online database soon. So if Mr. Montejo won't cooperate… We always have our info backup," Liz answers.

Cammie nods and was about to say something else when Liz spins around to face Bex and Grant, who were arguing in the corner of the living room. "Shut up!" Liz shrieks, "I cannot hear myself think with all your constant bickering! Would you please think of others? Just settle your dispute nicely and CALMLY!"

Bex raises an eyebrow and crosses her arms. "As calmly as _you're_ settling things?" Bex asks with a smirk after Liz has stopped screaming. With a scoff, Liz stomps away from the room, mumbling something about helping with Mr. Montejo before she kills somebody.

Immediately Bex goes back to fighting with Grant, while Cammie heads to the kitchen to get something to drink. As she's pouring herself a glass of water, she hears Bex exclaim, "You had us following the _wrong_ Mr. Montejo all night! What kind of bloody spy are you?"

"At least _I _was looking for Mr. Montejo! All you wanted to do was dance! And it's not like you went against me or told me it wasn't the _real _Mr. Montejo," Grant shoots back.

"I didn't _just_ want to dance! I wanted to go see Cammie, who apparently was actually following the real Mr. Montejo! But nooo, you were so hell-bent on tailing your fake Mr. Montejo that we didn't even know that!"

"That's exactly my point! I figured you just wanted to dance with your friend, while _I _was trying to complete the mission. _Sorry_ I fucked up. I didn't know British people never made mistakes," Grant says sarcastically.

"Oh, so now you're mocking me!"

"Just shut the fuck up and let me say I'm sorry!"

The next few minutes were strangely silent, so Cammie peeks around the corner to see if they've killed each other. Because, honestly, their constant fighting was quite entertaining. Cammie peeks around the corner to see Bex and Grant lying on the floor, making out like they haven't seen each other in years.

Cammie accidentally regurgitates a mouthful of water, so she quickly rushes over to the sink to spit it out before she spits it out on the tile. "Whoa," she suddenly hears from behind her. Cammie spins around to see Zach in the doorway. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just a little surprised from Bex and Grant's, um, session," she admits.

"I know. They were so into it they didn't even notice when I walked past them," Zach replies with a smirk. Suddenly the computer emits a strange beep noise signaling an incoming message.

Cammie and Zach lean over Liz's laptop and open the file that has just finished downloading. A map of Miami floods the screen, with green and red splotches all over, similar to a weatherman's map. Cammie's fingertip points to the key, which explained that the green meant uranium, the red meant hydrogen, and the yellow areas where both colors overlapped was a mix of uranium and hydrogen.

"Look," Cammie says excitedly, "There's only two places in Miami where uranium and hydrogen are both being stored. One of them has to be where the nuclear weapon is being stored. Let's go check it out!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Cam. We have to wait for Jonas and Liz to find out what they can from Mr. Montejo," Zach replies, trying to weaken her sense of urgency.

"What, and waste a few days trying to get information out of him while the other bad guys keep building it? I don't think so. We have to go check it out now," she insists.

"We shouldn't do anything we're going to regret later. We can't invade their whole operation with only two agents! It'll be too dangerous. And I won't let anything bad happen to you," Zach says ruefully.

Cammie puts her hand on Zach's arm. "Nothing bad is going to happen to me, especially with you right there. And, besides, who said anything about going inside?" she hints with an air of mischief. "I just want to check out the area around it so we know where all the escape routes and hiding places are at once we do invade their operation."

_"She's good on the eyes, _  
_but boy she's hell on the heart."_  
**- Eric Church**

Zach's defiance starts crumbling the longer Cammie stares at him with those molten dark brown eyes of hers. By the time she blinks at him with her thick eyelashes, he was already convinced. "Fine," Zach breaks down, "We'll go. But only to check out the area around it and check for any suspicious activity."

"Okay, let's go," Cammie says, after typing a note to Liz on Microsoft word and leaving it up on the screen so her friend would see it the next time she gets on the computer. Then she quick jots the addresses down on her palm with a pen randomly on the counter, due to lack of paper. Cammie and Zach leave the apartment and to the parking lot, where his motorcycle was parked.

Zach climbs onto his motorcycle and sits still, waiting for Cammie to get on. She straddles the motorcycle and wraps her arms around Zach's waist as he starts the engine. Cammie turns her palm upwards so Zach can read the first address.

Soon enough, they were driving down the highway, towards downtown Miami. Zach turns the motorcycle onto the exit ramp and into a semi-rundown part of town. The longer they drive through empty streets and dark alleys, the closer they get to the address. Eventually, Zach pulls the motorcycle up to a stop sign and he tilts his head to the left. "Is that it?" he asks.

Cammie squints to see the faded address on the side of the small garage. "I'm pretty sure. But that's not large at all, so they couldn't possibly store the actual nuclear weapon in there… Let's try out the next address," Cammie suggests.

Zach quickly reads the second address on Cammie's palm and he starts driving even further downtown. Once they've arrived in an even more run-down part of town, Zach parks the motorcycle in front of a cheap hotel building. Behind them was a tall gray warehouse, where the nuclear weapon must be stored.

"Is that it?" Cammie asks, looking at the warehouse nonchalantly while getting off the motorcycle. Zach hops off after her and puts down the tiny kickstand that will hold up the large machine.

"I'm pretty sure," Zach says. After a second or two of watching it, he blurts, "We should rent a hotel room." He turns and disappears into the hotel across the street from the warehouse.

"What?" Cammie exclaims, following after him. Inside, Zach was already talking to the greasy-haired hotel owner.

"One room for three nights, please," Zach requests, taking a few bills out of his wallet in his pocket.

The cheap-looking man twists his thin black mustache that was almost greasier than his flat comb-over with two fingers. He looks back and forth between Cammie and Zach, slowly nodding his head. "Sure… But three nights? You sure seem to be planning on staying busy, huh?" he wheezes, then snickers at his own joke.

Cammie just glares at the hotel owner until he finally says, "Okay, okay. One room for three nights, that'll be sixty bucks."

Zach hands over the cash as the man hands over the tarnished gold key to the room. There was probably a reason for the room being so cheap… And Cammie was not excited to see the condition of the room.

Zach leads the way up the stairs, looking for the door with the number that was scratched into the key. Cammie peeks over her shoulder to see the pervert of a hotel owner watching her butt as she climbed the stairs. Cammie self-consciously pulls down the hem of her dress a little lower until she was out of his sight.

They walk down a filthy hallway to room number 15, and Zach quickly unlocks the door, stepping into the room. He shuts the door behind Cammie right when she asks, "Why the heck did we even rent this shithole of a hotel room?"

Zach looks around the room at the cobwebs in the corner, the faded area rug, the slouching couch, and the unstable desk pushed against one wall. The bed had a metal frame and plain off-white sheets, which had stains in several places that Zach didn't even want to think about where they came from. He didn't quite feel like peeking in the closet, either, for fear of what might be in there.

But he walks over to the dusty curtains and pulls them wide, exposing the window, which had a great view of the warehouse across the street. "From here, we'll be able to see what's going on at the warehouse and check out the area around it without having to look too obvious. And we can all meet here before we ambush the warehouse," Zach explains.

"So we won't be staying here for long?" Cammie asks, still standing awkwardly in the same spot she had been since they walked in, afraid to touch any of the guaranteed-germy furniture.

"I promise we won't be in here for more than a half hour at a time," Zach assures her. "Now how about our method of entering the warehouse?"

Cammie finally moves from her spot by the door and walks over to the window next to Zach. "We'll simply have to surround the building. Get everybody in different positions for the attack, and block all exits," Cammie says, "The usual. There's not much we can do to plan for an attack but be prepared."

"Then I guess we should be heading back to Grant's apartment to see if Mr. Montejo has admitted anything yet," Zach suggests, shutting the curtains and backing away from the window.

"Liz could probably get us the floor-plans of both warehouses if we give her the addresses. Then we could plan our attack from there, which should probably take place by tomorrow?" Cammie asks, making sure.

"Tomorrow at the latest. We shouldn't give those bastards any extra time to finish their nuclear weapon," Zach scowls, leaving the hotel room. Cammie follows after him. After Zach locks the room, they leave the hotel, hop onto Zach's motorcycle, and drive back to Grant's apartment to get everybody up-to-date.

**

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**

(Author's Note: So… the story is now wrapping itself up, getting ready for the end. This story should end in about five chapters, maybe. Unless you guys want me to put a major twist in it, which could change things. Haha. I'm pretty much giving you guys a choice. POLL - Do you want a major nerve-wracking twist that would extend the story bunches of chapters? Or do you want a nice happily-ever-after ending right away? Vote in a review!)


	17. Catsuits and Couches

"So we found two warehouses that had the uranium and hydrogen concentrations. After we tracked down the addresses and saw where they were, we found that one garage was being used as a storage facility and the other warehouse was the actual holding place for the nuclear weapon. Zach bought a hotel room across the street from the warehouse where we could meet and discuss before the attack," Cammie explains to the group of spies on the couch.

"Now what address did Mr. Montejo give you for where the nuclear weapon was being stored?" Zach asks, crossing his arms and standing next to Cammie.

Liz grabs a piece of paper off the coffee table and rattles off the number, while Cammie reads along with her from the address on her palm, nodding. "Yep, they're the same. Apparently Mr. Montejo was telling us the truth," Cammie justifies.

"How haven't these idiots figured out we're coming after them yet?" Grant exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. "I'm ready for a fight! All this science-y stuff is too boring."

"All this _science-y _stuff is how we're finding them! And cool your ass down, Grant, you'll get to fight soon when we ambush the warehouse," Jonas snaps.

"It works just like a group of fans at a baseball game holding up a big sign. Each baseball fan has a card in their seat which is part of the big picture, but by just looking at their one part, they can't really tell what the big picture looks like. All the fans will hold up their signs at once, when they're told to do so by some higher power, in a baseball stadium's case, a screen. Everybody works together to get the final result, even if they don't know everybody who is also working towards the same goal as them, or what those strangers' roles are in getting the final result," Liz explains, "Just like a terrorist group."

"So if terrorist groups are so complex, how will we ever get to the 'higher-power' people controlling the big picture?" Bex asks.

"We have to wipe out the people closest to the big picture, like Mr. Montejo. But not people like Mrs. Hemlock, who was a little further down the web, though we may need to track down more people like her in order to get more important people, like how Mrs. Hemlock knew Mr. Montejo," Liz elaborates.

"Have you gotten the blueprints sent to you from Mr. Solomon yet?" Cammie asks.

Liz nods and unfolds a sheet of charting paper with large warehouse rooms mapped out on it. "We even got Mr. Montejo to tell us where the nuclear weapon is being stored. According to him, its in the large warehouse room in the middle of the building. We just have to secure the smaller rooms around it and then attack the middle," Liz reports.

"And how are you planning on getting a whole terrorist operation to just surrender by being attacked by, oh, SIX PEOPLE?" Grant demands. "It's not like they'll just see us and give up. Obviously they'd put up a fight, and I have a feeling we're going to be greatly outnumbered."

Liz opens her mouth to reply, but Jonas waves her silent. "I already called the Miami police department to send us backup, so we should have about fifteen or so police officers helping us. They promised to just provide manpower, and we'll mainly do the more important jobs and tell them what needs doing," Jonas answers.

"So after we get all the weapons we need-," Grant begins.

"Which are in my suitcase," Bex interrupts.

Grant glares at her for a second before continuing, "After we get all the weapons we need, how soon will we be starting the ambush on the warehouse?"

Liz and Jonas give each other a look, hinting to the others that the two have already discussed the topic. "Well," Liz begins slowly, "Jonas and I don't see the benefits of waiting for the attack, so we were thinking it would probably be… tonight?"

"Tonight?" Cammie, Bex, Zach, and Grant exclaim simultaneously.

"For all we know, they might be on to us already," Jonas defends, "And we still have the rest of this afternoon and a little into the evening to collect equipment before we ambush them at night, when they'll least expect it."

The group was silent for a minute or so until Cammie replies, "True… that would probably be a better idea than waiting for tomorrow."

"So let's get started!" Liz exclaims. "Cammie, Zach, what main equipment might we need to get into the building?"

"It looks fairly easy to get into," Zach replies, "But it all depends on the security, which they probably have a lot of…" All the spies stand up and head to Grant's bedroom, where Bex's luggage was being held while the guest room was occupied by Mr. Montejo.

_"And if we don't hide here, _  
_they're gonna find us. _  
_And if we don't hide now, _  
_they're gonna catch us when we sleep."_  
**- Spies by Coldplay**

Zach leads the way up the stairs of the hotel to room number 15, and he unlocks the door for his team to walk in. They were all dressed in plain clothes, though the second the hotel room door closes, they all begin to strip down to a layer of black clothing.

Though it was cliché to be completely dressed in black, it actually worked to help them stay hidden in the dark. Bex, Liz, and Cammie were all dressed in skintight latex catsuits, the fabric hugging their bodies like a wetsuit. The girls also had on tall black heeled boots because, according to Bex, a kick from a heel hurt worse than a tennis shoe.

And, frankly, Zach couldn't take his eyes off Cammie and how her catsuit clung to her butt and thighs and, especially, her chest. Suddenly Zach was glad he wasn't wearing a catsuit either, or else his hard-on would be on prominent display for the world, and Cammie, to see.

"Why's it so fucking cold in here?" Grant complains, climbing up onto the old table to pound the metal air conditioner with his fist. "I'm freakin' freezing my balls off."

"Thanks for sharing," Bex replies, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes.

Jonas, Grant, and Zach were dressed in sleek black dress pants with black tennis shoes. They also had on tight black tees with slight V-necks and black synchronized watches. Each spy had their own small case for their equipment, which they would either attach to themselves or begin to carry once they began the raid.

"I am so tired," Liz moaned, collapsing face-down on the stained mattress. Cammie can't help but let out a yawn in agreement, though she doesn't want to touch the seedy furniture.

"What time are the Miami policemen meeting us in the lobby?" Bex asks, sitting next to her friend on the bed.

Jonas looks at his watch and answers, "Ten. So we have at least two to three hours for a quick nap if you want one before we have to get going."

"YES!" Grant shouts in agreement, jumping onto the bed and making Liz nearly jump a foot into the air with a high-pitched shriek. Bex takes the pillow laying on the bed and smacks Grant with it. Grant yanks the pillow away from her and covers his head with it, then falls asleep in record time.

Underneath the bed was a cot, which Jonas pulled out and offered to Liz. She blushes and curls up into a fetal position on the cot, since Liz can only fall asleep if she's curled up in a ball. Jonas then sits at the foot of the cot, sets an alarm for 9:30 on his watch, and watches her fitfully fall asleep.

Meanwhile, Zach motions to the lumpy green couch. "Are you tired?" he asks Cammie, who was just standing awkwardly in the room like she had earlier in the day when they came to check out the hotel room.

"Not rea-," Cammie begins to say, but is cut off by a massive yawn, which she tries to hide with both hands. Zach just smirks at her, causing her face to get red. "What? That couch is nasty, okay?"

Zach responds by laying down across the couch with his head propped up on the armrest. He reaches one arm out and whispers, "Come here." He had to talk a little quieter than usual because all the rest of his friends were already asleep.

Cammie takes a few small steps closer to Zach and he takes her hand in his, pulling her closer. Cammie's eyes cloud with confusion, so Zach pats his chest. Finally, understanding floods her face and Cammie straddles his hips, climbing onto the couch.

"Are you sure?" Cammie whisper-replies. Zach nods confidently and Cammie lowers her head to Zach's chest. For some reason, Cammie could be perfectly calm with her friends, and then Zach could show up and make her heart start beating so fast she could swear she was going to have a heart palpitation.

She hated it.

No, she loved it.

…It was a love-hate relationship.

"Thanks," Cammie whispers, tilting her head up to look at Zach in the half-dark. Light from the streetlights outside was shining through the thin fabric of the window shades, causing his green eyes to glint like a cat.

"Anytime," he murmurs back. Zach's hands glide down her back, leaving a trail of fire prickling down her skin, before his hands come to rest on her lower back.

Finally, Cammie couldn't take it anymore. She reaches up and clasps his head between her hands, the slight stubble on his jaws scratching her palms. She pulls Zach's lips close to her own and kisses him hard.

When she pulls away, Zach was smirking at her, revealing white teeth that were even bright in the dark. "Shut up," Cammie hisses in the quiet.

But Zach ignores her advice and asks cockily, "Couldn't resist, Gallagher girl?"

"You know, Zach, I may just have to sleep somewhere else. I don't think there's enough room on this couch for me and your ego," Cammie replies. Zach chuckles, making her body shake on top of his. Cammie places her head on Zach's chest and slowly falls asleep to the steady sound of his beating heart.


	18. Out Fucking Standing

Cammie jolts awake at the obnoxiously loud sound of Jonas' alarm. She lets out a small chuckle as Zach jumps awake at the same time. Instantly Cammie was awake, knowing they were about to attack the warehouse. She lifts herself off of Zach and stands in the middle of the room, arching her back to stretch it.

"C'mon, the Miami police department will be in the lobby in a little less than a half hour," Jonas commands, shaking Grant awake.

Cammie grabs her small silver case and snaps it open, revealing an array of weapons and protection equipment. The first thing she grabs are her night-vision contacts, which she pops into her eyes. The contacts could allow her to see in both bright light and complete darkness, with only a slight green shade. Cammie's contacts made her slightly hazel eyes look even more hazel, while Zach's contacts blended in perfectly with his already-green eyes.

Cammie takes a compact grapple-gun and grips that in her palm. She puts a silver Compact 9mm pistol into her belt, where she'll need it once they gain entrance to the warehouse. Then she takes a small tube of "lipstick" and sticks that in her pocket. And, of course, Cammie stuffed a handful of Napotene patches in her pocket along with a slick-on security camera. Then she plugs a comms unit into her ear, and she was ready.

"Let's move out," Jonas orders, leading the way out of the hotel room. Cammie grins and looks at Liz, who rolls her eyes at Jonas' enthusiasm for beginning the mission.

The spies head to the lobby of the hotel room, where fifteen policemen were already gathered. Jonas heads over to the policeman in charge and explains how they'll be surrounding the building. It'll be the polices' job to surround the building from the ground, and the spies will invade the warehouse from the rooftop.

The policeman in charge looks at his watch and says, "Ten o'clock, are we going now?"

"Yep. Bring your squad around the building and surround the building from all sides, especially the south end. We'll get on the rooftop as soon as possible," Cammie explains, and the police run out the door.

After a solid minute, Zach looks at Jonas and says, "You try to shut down the power throughout the whole block, since if you shut down the power in just that warehouse, it'll look too obvious we're attacking them."

"I already put my laptop on a timer. In exactly twenty, this whole block will be in darkness," Jonas replies.

"Then we can begin our invasion on the rooftop under the cover of darkness," Bex summarizes. Right as she finishes talking, the streetlights turn out, as do all the lights in all the buildings in the whole block.

"Outstanding, Jonas," Grant tells his friend, "Out-fucking-standing."

"What the hell, Grant?" Jonas replies. "Did you take that line from Call of Duty?"

"Yeah… so?"

Cammie holds back a laugh and blinks, so her night-vision contacts could start working. There was a slight green tint to everything, but nothing as drastic as you would see in fake Hollywood spy movies.

The group of spies head out of the hotel lobby, splitting up into three groups; Zach and Cammie, Grant and Bex, Jonas and Liz. Cammie leads Zach to an apartment building on the south side of the building, and they start climbing up a fire escape. After climbing up two floors, Cammie turns around and stops Zach in his tracks with a firm hand on his chest.

"See that abandoned guard shack right across the street?" Cammie asks, tilting her head towards the warehouse property. A tall, three story guard shack was on the corner of the warehouse with no apparent guards in the window.

"Yeah."

"Do you know anyone who's already checking it out?" Cammie asks.

"No, Liz and Jonas are headed to the west side and Bex and Liz are headed to the east side. The police should mainly have the north side, and we're the only ones with the south side, despite a few guards surrounding the warehouse," Zach answers, confusion showing through his contacts.

"In five minutes I want to see you in the window."

"What does-"

"Five minutes," Cammie repeats herself.

"But why do you even want me-"

Cammie grabs hold of Zach's wrist and looks at the time. "You just lost ten seconds," Cammie informs him, dropping his wrist. As Zach scoffs and turns to leave, Cammie says, "Watch my back." She continues climbing the fire escape to the roof, where she walks over to the ledge and leans over. Cammie takes out the stick-on security camera that Dr. Fibbs invented. After peeling off the white sticker, she sticks the security camera on the ledge and aims it towards the wide garage door on the south side. The security camera will stream live to Jonas' laptop.

Cammie stands up and lifts her grapple-gun towards the guard shack across the street. Zach was now standing in the window, right on time. She pulls the trigger and locks her elbows as the grapple hook flies out of the gun and hooks onto the gutter of the guard shack. Cammie gives the rope a small tug to be sure it was secure, then steps on the ledge of the rooftop.

She pulls the trigger once more and leaps off the ledge. Her stomach drops as she free-falls towards the ground, then she's yanked sky-ward as the grapple gun starts sucking up the rope. Cammie flips upside-down, almost like Spiderman, so her feet would go into the window first.

As Cammie quickly approaches the window, Zach swings the window open and leans down to look at her. But she was too close for Zach to move out of the way, and Cammie crashes into him, both of them falling into the room.

Since Zach had mainly broken her fall, Cammie was left straddling his waist. From underneath her, Zach was looking at her up and down, a gleam in his eye. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what he was thinking of her catsuit. Cammie jumps off of Zach and brushes herself off, extending a hand to help him up.

Zach takes her hand and he stands up, not taking his eyes off her. "Sorry about that," Cammie apologizes. "Is the rest of the building clear?"

"Yeah, there was nobody else in here when I got here," Zach answers, already leaning out the window and standing on the ledge in order to get to the roof. He twists around and climbs up onto the roof, with Cammie right behind him. "We should be able to jump from here to the main roof." Zach points to the roof of the actual warehouse, some three yards away.

"Ready?" Cammie asks, and Zach nods. They back up a bit, then sprint to the edge and jump. Cammie lands agilely on the concrete roof with two feet to spare. Zach lands a few feet away from her.

Cammie takes out her tube of "lipstick" that was actually a tube of highly erosive paste that could break down the molecules of nearly anything, also invented by Dr. Fibbs. She rolls up the lipstick-like paste and draws a hole on the roof. The paste immediately starts eating away a ring. Once the paste has eaten all the way through, the plaster ceiling crashes down to the ground and shatters.

With their element of surprise gone, Cammie jumps through the hole with her gun at the ready. Once she lands on the ground, she rolls behind a wooden crate to block herself from being shot by one of the six security guards in the small room. Zach hides on the other side of the room behind a metal barrel.

Cammie peeks her head out and shoots a guy in the knee, making him collapse on the ground with his gun sliding away from him. Another guy made an easy shot, and Cammie shot a bullet right into his shoulder, making him drop his gun.

Right then, a security guard runs around the crate Cammie was hiding behind, clearly not knowing she was there. She puts out her foot and trips him right in front of her, then yanks his gun from his hand. At gunpoint, he surrenders and lets her slap a Napotene patch on him; he falls unconscious within ten seconds.

Looking over the edge of the crate, she saw Zach covering all the fallen security guards with Napotene patches. At least, the ones who weren't dead. Cammie walks over to Zach, not bothering to put on her safety on her gun.

"You clean?" he asks.

Cammie looks down and checks for any wounds she may not have noticed in all the excitement. "Nope, I'm good. But I see you got nicked," Cammie states, pointing to an inch-long bullet graze on Zach's forearm.

"I know, I deserve it for getting sloppy. But those guys clearly have had some experience with a gun," Zach murmurs, looking at his small cut on his arm. Then he looks up at Cammie and says, "Come on, we have to clear out the other rooms next."

Cammie heads over to the only door that led from the room, and swings it wide open with a flick of her wrist. Immediately she pounces on the unsuspecting security guard out in the hallway, and slaps a Napotene pouch on the back of his neck. The man falls to the ground, and Zach leads the way down the hallway.

The hallway had several doors connected to it. As Cammie and Zach slowly navigated down the hallway shoulder-to-shoulder, they open the doors one at a time only to find that the rooms were empty except for crates and boxes and barrels and other supplies. After making it completely down the hallway without coming across another security guard, Zach turns to Cammie.

"This door should lead to the main room in the warehouse, where the nuclear weapon is probably being stored," Zach explains, tilting his head towards the last door at the end of the hallway.

"We can't just barge in through the door, that would give us barely any cover. We've got to sneak in some other way," Cammie thinks aloud, looking around her. She stares at a wide air vent in the ceiling, her thoughts going a hundred miles an hour.

Finally, Cammie orders, "Zach, lift me onto your shoulders." Without protest, Zach kneels down and Cammie puts her thighs on each side of his ears. He stands up once she was securely on his shoulders, and Cammie reaches for the air vent.

She pinches the bolts between her pointer finger and her thumb, and twists. One by one, the bolts come off, loosening the air vent cover. Cammie takes off the cover and hands it down to Zach, who places it on the ground, propped against the wall.

Cammie slowly goes from a sitting position on Zach's shoulders to a squatting position, then a standing position. She pulls herself into the wide warehouse air vent and looks down at Zach. "Okay, I'm up," she tells him, crawling a few feet away from the air vent opening to give him some room.

Before Zach climbs into the air vent, though, he takes the air vent cover and props it underneath the doorknob of the door leading to the main room in case any terrorists would try to escape during the attack. Then he stands under the air vent opening, jumps up, and crawls in.

Zach was greeted into the air vent with a perfect view of Cammie's butt, covered in tight black lycra. He squeezes his eyelids shut and takes a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. Constant pressure on his pants zipper may not be the best element to fight in.

When he opens his eyes, Cammie's butt was still facing him. She turns her head towards him and whispers, "Zach, follow me. I think I found the way into the main room."

Cammie crawls down the air vent on her hands and knees. A few yards away was a slatted metal air vent cover. Cammie peers down through the slats and nods in confirmation. "I think this is it," she whispers.

Zach crawls next to her and peers through the slats to see multiple guards walking around. From his vantage-point, Zach couldn't see anything that resembled a nuclear weapon, but it just might be out of his line of sight. None the less, this was definitely the main room of the warehouse.

Zach puts two fingers to his ear as he says into his comms unit, "Grant, Jonas, get into position. We're getting ready to attack."

**

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**

(Author's Note: Two words why I haven't been updating… WORLD CUP! Spain is so going to win, though I'm really for France and Italy and Korea too, not to mention that Germany is totally beast. Some of those soccer players are really hot XD Haha. Review who you think will win the whole thing, and if you're right, I'll give you a shout-out once the World Cup is over! Oh, also, the backspace key fell off my laptop, just to make things even more easier for me to write… That was sarcasm, btw. And go to Taco Bell and try their Limeade Sparkler. It's amazing. Lol. So, on that random note… review!)


	19. Chlorine Gas

Once Liz and Bex were in their position with Jonas and Grant, Cammie removed the metal grate on the cover of the air vent. "Three… two… one… NOW!" Cammie exclaims through her comms unit, dropping feet-first through the air vent opening, catching about twenty guards by surprise.

The warehouse room had a concrete floor and walls. There were stacks of crates, tires, and barrels all around the room. A large CAT lift truck was off in one corner, unmanned at the moment. Several heavy aluminum garage-style doors lined the walls, which led to other rooms in the warehouse. Bare lightbulbs hung from the ceiling, and metal pillars held up the roof.

Zach jumps through the air vent right behind her, and Cammie spots her friends across the warehouse room. Gunshots ring out, and Zach shoves Cammie behind a pile of crates. Zach peers out from behind the crates and starts firing at the terrorists who come too close to their hiding spot.

The security guards, not having expected an attack on the warehouse, had around ten rounds in their guns. They ran out of ammunition quickly, and the terrorists started grabbing random items for use as weapons.

After taking down a few more terrorists, Cammie ran out of ammunition too. The security guards began to figure that out, and started to move in on their hiding spot. Cammie leaps on top of the pile of crates while Zach runs further into the warehouse room, also out of ammunition. She leaps from the crates towards a terrorist with only an empty gun as a weapon.

Just as the terrorist raises the butt of his gun towards Cammie to whack her with it, she lands a solid roundhouse-kick to his forehead. He falls to the ground just in time for Cammie to spin around and duck to avoid a man wielding a metal chain, which was being swung in the air.

One thing for sure, though, Cammie knew that flexible weapons such as chains or belts were not suitable for such kind of fights. Standing up, she grabs a metal bar propped up against the wall and jabs it at the flying metal chain. The chain hooks onto the metal bar, and Cammie manages to yank the chain away from her attacker.

Her attacker immediately puts up his fists to fight, once the shell-shocked expression had faded from his face. Cammie fakes an uppercut, and the attacker bends nearly in half to block it. But then she takes a quick jab to the terrorist's temple, and he falls unconscious at her feet.

At Gallagher during P&E, Cammie was taught about three major body 'zones' you should target in a fight to get a certain effect. Zone One was the head region, which would affect the person's senses if attacked properly. Zone Two was the neck, torso, and groin area, which would affect the attacker's breathing. And Zone Three, the legs and feet, would affect mobility.

From that day on, Cammie would first attack the senses so her enemy wouldn't be aware of her upcoming attack. Then she would attack their mobility so they couldn't run. From there on, Cammie could attack the zones that would affect their breathing to finish them off. It was a satisfactory fighting style that always followed through with her expectations, if she had time to remember her technique. If not, she'd just follow her instincts.

Cammie spins around at the sound of running feet behind her. "Whoa!" she exclaims, managing to duck just in time as another attacker thrusts a crowbar at her. The crowbar smashes through the crate behind where her head had been, shattering the empty glass vials that were being held in the crate.

Cammie kicks the terrorist's torso and he goes flying backwards, away from the crowbar, which was still stuck in the crate. She pulls it out of the crate and swings the crowbar around right at the moment the terrorist was climbing to his feet. The crowbar smashes into his nose, most likely breaking it since it was gushing blood, and the man writhes on the ground in pain.

Seeing another terrorist crouching behind a pile of crates and fumbling with something in his hands, Cammie starts running towards him. Without him noticing her approach, she lands a solid kick right on his back, sending him sprawling on the ground.

Whatever he was messing with in his hands goes clattering across the smooth concrete floor. Cammie dives for it the same second the terrorist does too. She lands on his back, and the man swings his head back, knocking his head against her forehead. Cammie winces as pain shoots through her head, and accidentally lets the terrorist get out from under her.

Cammie shakes the pain away and trips the guy back on the ground. While he scrambles to his feet, Cammie runs past him, planning on scooping up the vial before he gets to it. But the man tackles her to the ground, knocking the breath out of her because of his heavy weight.

Cammie throws an elbow backwards, and makes contact with the area of his cheekbone right under his eye socket. "You bitch!" the man groans, holding his face, but not moving from on top of her. Cammie only grunts as she reaches for the vial of some sort of green mist laying in the corner barely a foot away.

The terrorist grabs her arms away from the vial and scoots towards the vial, still on top of her. Now the majority of his weight was pressing on her torso, making it extremely hard to breathe deeply due to the fact her ribcage couldn't expand underneath him.

"No!" Cammie shouts as the man grabs the vial. He climbs off her, and Cammie starts gasping for air back in her lungs. Big mistake.

The terrorist throws the vial on the ground, and the glass shatters, causing the green mist-like substance in the vial to escape. The man runs away, but it was too late for Cammie to get out of there, because she wasn't even on her feet yet. The reaction from the gas was immediate; her eyes began to water and her vision became blurry.

Cammie's chest tightened and she let out a frantic shriek. _What kind of gas was this? Poison?_ If it was, she needed to get out of there. Fast. But her limbs grew heavy and suddenly she was overcome by a coughing fit that barely allowed her to get another breath of air in.

But every time Cammie took another breath, more of that gas entered her lungs, causing her to begin coughing all over again. The mysterious gas created a burning sensation in her nose, throat, and her eyes; everywhere the gas was gaining access to her body.

Then her stomach began rolling as Cammie was overpowered by a strong wave of nausea. She wanted desperately to puke to rid herself of that nauseous feeling, but she was coughing too hard to focus on anything else. Not to ignore the fact that if she puked, she'd need to breathe again and along with the coughing, there just wasn't enough room for it all in her esophagus.

Cammie hoped desperately someone would see her behind the stack of crates where the terrorist she attacked had been hiding. Right after that thought passed through her head, though, Zach appeared by her side. "Cammie!" he exclaims, scooping her up in his arms.

_"As a secret agent, I keep it cool, but I failed. _  
_Thumbs up for finishing the mission, _  
_Love is a luxury for people like us. _  
_Cold-blooded plus zero emotions, _  
_That's the rule."_  
**- Hallelujah by Big Bang**

Zach sprints to the other side of the warehouse, where one of the large metal garage doors had been opened a few minutes earlier by the Miami police. The MPD had cleared out the other rooms of the warehouse, moving all the handcuffed and/or unconscious terrorists into a room being guarded by Bex and Jonas.

He sets Cammie on top of a crate, with her legs dangling off the sides of the crate. "Liz!" Zach calls her over to where Cammie was, and Liz comes rushing over. "Do you know what's wrong with Cam?"

Liz takes a deep sniff of the air around Cammie, where a faint scent seems to be wafting off her. "Whoa… She smells like chlorine. What happened?" Liz asks Zach, but Cammie answers instead.

"I saw one of the terrorist guys messing with some type of vial full of green-ish gas," Cammie answers with a hoarse throat, "I attacked him, yet he still got the vial. He broke it open and the next thing I know, I'm coughing like I'm about to pop out a lung."

After all that talking that has irritated her raw throat, Cammie goes into another coughing fit. Zach gently rubs her back and Liz replies, "If it's a green gas, it must have been chlorine gas, sortof like the poisonous gas used in World War I, except much less potent. In World War I, usually phosgene and chlorine were mixed in a chemical weapon called White Star, which smelled like a mix of pineapple and pepper. But since Cammie only smells like chlorine, I believe there was no phosgene in that mixture."

"…That's good, right?" Zach asks.

"Yes, plain chlorine is better than chlorine with phosgene. Chlorine gas can cause lung damage, though, since the cilia in the lungs will begin to rupture with contact to the gas. If left untreated, the ruptured cilia will rot in the lungs and white blood cells will rush in to clear away the phlegm, but are overwhelmed by all the excess rotten tissue. That's the same thing as pneumonia."

"Gee, thanks, Bookworm, that's a lovely picture you just painted in my head. But what'll help?" Cammie rasps.

"Just take some saline nebulizer pills, which should stop the cilia from rupturing. I can run over to the closest hospital and get some," Liz offers.

"That'd be great, Liz," Cammie says. "And… could I get some water?"

"Here," Zach replies, handing her his half-full water bottle that one of the police officers brought in. He watches as Cammie finishes it off, gasping for air as she finishes.

"Oh, Cammie, before I go, I just want to say that you'll be fine," Liz continues. "Your eyes will stop watering in a few minutes, and your throat won't be as swollen either. You'll be perfectly normal and won't show any signs of sickness for a few days. That is, if you don't take the pills. But I'll get the pills and you'll be perfectly healthy to fight or whatever."

"Alright. Uh… thanks, Liz," Cammie replies with a weary grin. Liz nods and runs off, dragging Jonas with her as an escort to the hospital. Cammie turns back to Zach, who had a hand on her knee. By sitting on the crate, she was at Zach's eye level, and he was looking at her with concern in his eyes.

"You sure you're fine? You don't need any more water or anything?" Zach asks.

"I'm fine, just like Liz said I would be. But what about you?" Cammie asks, fingering Zach's ripped black tee. One section of fabric on his sleeve was damp with blood… or sweat. Cammie couldn't tell, since it was black. "Is that your blood?"

"Some of it, yeah," Zach answers. Cammie sighs and gives him a look. "What?"

"You should get that looked at," Cammie replies, cocking her head towards a paramedic, who had just arrived. By then, all the terrorists were captured and set in a room to be guarded while the Miami police officers and CIA operatives were checked for injuries.

"They're only scratches."

Cammie doesn't push the issue any further, because she knows Zach was just too stubborn. Not to mention that he didn't seem like he was very likely to be leaving her side any soon.

"What about the nuclear weapon?" Cammie suddenly asks, "Did they find it?" She hadn't seen anything that resembled a nuclear weapon.

"No, it's not in the main room like we thought. But the SWAT team is coming in soon to give the whole warehouse another look-through, to be sure we hadn't missed it," Zach answers. Cammie nods, and they watch the paramedic look over a policeman's bullet wound for a few minutes.

"You sure you're fine, Gallagher girl?"

"YES, Zach, for the last time."

"Fine, fine, just checking," he replies.

Cammie pauses. "Well, I guess I _am _a bit tired…," she trails off.

Zach nods, lifts her off the crate, and sets her back on the ground, even though she was totally capable of just hopping off. "I'll tell them we're going. We're done here, anyway. Joe will be here with reinforcements to take in the terrorists, any wounded government agents will be brought to the hospital, and the SWAT team will want this place empty for when they get here," Zach explains.

He leads Cammie over to where Bex and Grant have taken over guarding the trapped terrorists. "Grant, we'll be heading out to our hotel room. Be sure to tell whoever needs to know that we're leaving," Zach orders.

They walk out of the warehouse and nearly run into Liz, who was running through the empty lot around the warehouse. "I got the saline nebulizer pills!" she exclaims, handing them to Cammie. "Jonas and I basically sped over to the hospital and we were first in line, being CIA agents, you know how that is."

"Thanks, Liz. Zach and I are on the way back to our hotel room at the Four Seasons, not the crappy hotel room across the street," Cammie informs her friend.

"Sure, I'll see you tomorrow. Jonas and I will probably be leaving here soon too, we just have to check out."

"Kay, bye," Cammie says. She and Zach cross the street to Zach's motorcycle, but instead of climbing on, he waits for Jonas and Liz to get inside the warehouse.

"Damn, I thought we'd never be alone," Zach growls in a husky voice, taking Cammie's face in his hands. He leans in and kisses Cammie and she was, once again, blown away at how amazingly Zach could kiss. _Did they teach the Art of Kissing at Blackthorne Academy or something? _

When Zach finally pulls away, he apologizes, "Sorry, but I've been wanting to do that all night."

"Don't be sorry," Cammie replies, pulling him towards her for another kiss.

**

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**

(Author's Note: My whole face is sunburned. OW. God. I'll probably be updating pretty frequently, since I'm not going to dare getting even more sunburned by going outside for long periods of time… Oh, and the whole next chapter is just Zammie. So look forward to that (: Review!)


	20. SWAT Team

The motorcycle pulls up in the Four Seasons parking lot, and both Cammie and Zach climb off. They begin walking across the vast parking lot, since all the parking spaces close to the entrance had already been taken when they arrived. They were on the right side of the building on the sidewalk, just a small walk to the front doors.

But then, with a contemplative look on his face, Zach says, "So I think I'll call room service and order you some tea or something, if that might help your throat. Or it might even help you fall asleep, since-"

Cammie cuts him off with a kiss. She pulls away and finishes for him, "I'm _not _tired. Far from it, actually."

Zach just looks at her with a confused look on his face. Soon, a slow smirk crept across his face. He pulls Cammie against him and her body immediately relaxed against his rock-hard torso. She kissed him again, her tongue explored his mouth, finding, without surprise, that he tasted like spearmint. The smell of his spicy cologne enveloped her.

Zach's hands started to move, his fingers running down her back, drifting down to grab her butt and clutch her even closer against him. Cammie put her arms around his shoulders and kisses him deeper. Just as a low growl started from the back of Zach's throat, a group of teenagers drove by in a pickup truck, honked, and yelled in a slurred voice, "Get a room!"

Cammie and Zach yanked apart from their kiss, panting and gazing at each other until Zach said, "Good idea. Let's get going." Zach grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the door to the lobby of their hotel. The elevator doors opened right as they got there, and a large group of young adults poured out into the lobby, jabbering loudly about some party they're headed to.

In the elevator, which was now empty, Zach's hands grasp Cammie's waist and he lifts her into the air. By instinct, Cammie wraps her thighs around his hips and her arms around his neck. Zach grabbed her butt and lifted her a bit higher for her to feel his obvious hard-on. "Believe it or not," he murmurs through their kiss, "I'm not tired either."

Shivers shot through her body. Why couldn't Cammie resist him? Where was her self-control? _Hell… who needs self-control when a CIA operative is bent on seduction? _After the elevator doors opened, he carried her to the hotel room. After unlocking the door, Zach turned her carefully to avoid hitting her head on the doorjam. Concussion would undoubtedly put a damper on the evening.

Zach kicks the door closed with his foot and pushes Cammie up against the wall, still holding her up. He plants a steaming kiss on her lips, and Cammie opens her mouth to encourage Zach further. Their tongues fight for dominance, until Cammie's tongue starts to wilt.

Zach pulls away in victory and he turns away from the wall to flip Cammie onto the bed. He quickly steps out of his dress shoes before climbing on the bed next to Cammie, who was trying to untie the knee-high black heeled boots she was wearing. Trying, but not succeeding.

Her fingers fumble to untie the long shoelaces that laced all the way up her shins. To make matters worse, adrenaline and hormones were already pumping through her veins, causing her hands to shake. It _definitely _didn't help that Zach was sitting behind her, running his hands through her hair and planting kisses on the back of her neck.

Somehow, Cammie finally got her boots off and she spun around on Zach, who had moved on to lightly tracing his fingers up and down Cammie's back, giving her shivers. "You make me totally crazy," she confesses.

"I know the feeling. The way you look at me ought to be criminal."

"You can be such a jerk."

"It's a talent of mine."

"It totally ruins the mood."

"Does it?" Zach asks slyly, giving her another mind-blowing kiss. After kissing for several minutes, during which things had started to get heavier and heavier, Zach tears away and says, "Whoa, we need to slow down. We have the whole night, right?"

"Of course. But I'm not going anywhere," Cammie replies, lips already swelling from their constant kissing.

"Damn right, you're not," Zach agrees, gently pushing her down onto the bed. He quickly traps both of Cammie's hands above her head in one of his large fists. There was something ridiculously hot about allowing Zach to do whatever he wants with her, but _come on_.

She was a CIA operative. She could at least put up a bit of resistance.

Cammie wraps her legs around Zach and flips him over, so she was now on top. Cammie smirks in victory, and Zach smirks up at her. "This isn't over yet," he assures her.

"Sure it's not," Cammie replies, confidently buffing her nails on the slick fabric of her catsuit and inspecting them. With one sudden, wild buck of his hips, Cammie goes flying off of Zach. She lets out a small squeak of surprise, then giggles at her own disregard.

Cammie lands on the bed with her head hanging off the edge, and Zach is quick to crouch above her. He wastes no time in kissing the smooth skin of her long neck, trailing kisses from her jaw all the way down to her collarbone. Zach licks along the bump of Cammie's collarbone, then lightly blows on it, sending shivers up her neck.

Soon the blood started rushing to her head, so Cammie helps herself up by clinging to Zach's shoulders and sitting up. The head-rush she got next blurred her vision, so she didn't know where Zach was until his lips landed on hers.

Cammie sneaks her hands under Zach's shirt and runs her cool fingers across his smooth skin. She feels him flinch and his abs tighten up under her touch. Cammie smiles in the kiss, and Zach pulls away to whip off his shirt. Then he reaches over, pulls her against his torso, and falls back on the bed.

Zach's hands slide up and down the curve of Cammie's lower back as he kisses her, and Cammie's hands explore Zach's dark hair. Soon Cammie couldn't take having all that fabric between Zach's body and hers. She takes the zipper at the back of her catsuit and begins to climb out of it, but Zach is too rushed and he just rips the rest of it off her. She was left in only her bra and panties.

"You're so fucking beautiful," Zach breathes as he fumbles out of his pants and pulls Cammie towards his boxer-clad form. She kisses him deeply, running her fingertips down his washboard-abs. _How could soap and shampoo smell so much better on Zachary Goode than anyone else? _Cammie had no idea. But one thing she did know… within minutes, they were both completely naked and lost in a mess of soft skin, trembling fingers, and excited lips.

_"Hey, baby girl, what's up? _  
_The way you smile, the way you laugh, _  
_the way you hold me, the way no one else can hold me. _  
_My hands are always here for you to hold. _  
_I remember everything, cause you are my life. _  
_You will always be near, and we can trust each other with our life. _  
_My heart is always wanting to love you forever, _  
_and even a single day is too long for me to stay with out you."_  
**- Forever With You by Big Bang**

"Where are you going?" Zach asks Cammie the next morning, watching her climb out of bed ass-naked. She had slight blue-ish bruises on her hips in the shape of fingers, and Zach smirks, knowing they came from him.

"Work," she replies, slipping on her bra and underwear from the floor.

"What do you mean work?" Zach exclaims, sitting bolt-upright in bed.

Cammie chuckles at his surprise, and she holds up the needle and thread she'd just taken from her suitcase and answers, "I need to fix my catsuit, which you tore when you ripped it off me last night."

Zach smirks, dark stubble shadowing his jaw, and replies with bright eyes, "Sorry, but it was necessary. You were taking too long."

Cammie rolls her eyes and asks, "Thirty more seconds would've been too long?"

Zach points at her and answers, "Exactly. That was the problem."

Cammie just shakes her head with an amused grin on her face and gets to work repairing the 12-inch-long rip down the right leg of her catsuit, where she hadn't gotten her leg out fast enough for Zach, and he had ripped the catsuit right off her.

Several minutes pass by and, finally, her catsuit is repaired. But then a rapid knocking comes from the front door, and in an instant, Cammie had flung herself back underneath the bed sheets to cover herself. Grant flings the hotel door open and steps inside. "Wake up, wa-," Grant starts to yell, but freezes when he sees Zach and Cammie half-naked in bed with guilty looks in their eyes. "Well, well, well… How much sleep did you two get last night?"

"Not much," Zach answers honestly, smirking. Cammie hides underneath the covers so nobody would see her blushing… though they obviously knew she was embarrassed.

"Well, I'm just going to kinda ignore the fact that you're naked and give you the news… The SWAT team didn't find the nuclear weapon in the warehouse we attacked last night," Grant informs them.

"What?" Cammie exclaims, whipping the bed sheet off her head.

"We're guessing the nuclear weapon has been moved from the second warehouse, which we had originally guessed was just a storage facility for the supplies. So now we have to find where they're hiding the nuclear weapon," Grant explains.

"And I bet the rest of the terrorists know that there are still government agents after them, even after they asked to stop all operations, so they won't be happy about that," Cammie adds.

"…Which means they could fire the nuclear weapon at any moment," Zach realizes. "We have to find where they're hiding it, and soon." Zach gives Grant a look and tilts his head towards the door.

"Oh… right. I'll wait in the lobby while you two lovebirds get dressed," Grant excuses, backing out of the hotel room and closing the door. Right after he leaves, Zach rolls over and pulls Cammie against him.

"I love you," he murmurs, kissing her neck.

"I love you, too," Cammie tells him, grinning lazily. She gives him a kiss then pulls away and asks, "Oh, for future reference, do you know how to stop a nuclear weapon from detonating?"

./printable


End file.
